


Webs We Weave

by Nathalaia



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nathalaia/pseuds/Nathalaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongin lived a pretty normal life up until the day he encountered Kyungsoo. The young man with the wide, wonderful eyes and the heart-shaped smile that drew Jongin in. </p><p>But someone already owned Kyungsoo, if the bruises on the man’s perfect, pale skin were any indication.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Webs We Weave

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Here we are, yet again, because it is physically impossible for me to stick to one story at a time, hence, this fic.
> 
> I have worked on this story for months (since January, actually), by now, and have therefore forgotten how the hell I came up with the plot. Huh. I’ll bet it was just my twisted mind needing more violence (and my lovely beta-reader, MegLee06, most likely had a part in it, too <3). I do know, however, that I had planned on this being a short-ish oneshot, and here we are, 45 pages on Word later. Sigh.
> 
> Anyhow, as mentioned above, I’ve worked on this for months, and I’ll tell you, it has been a bitch. I have procrastinated so much on it and whined and sobbed over it to Meg (many thanks for listening to my complaints and grumbling, Meg <3) because it has been such a struggle. The last read-through took six hours, what the hell?
> 
> For the WWW POSTER, check link: http://i.imgur.com/UgQDgBm.png  
> (Credits go to http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/847707/spotlight-posters-open-hiring-angst-graphics-poster-request-romance-postershop-graphicshop)
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy!

**Warnings:** Beware of rating and _Creater Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings_ (to avoid spoilers).

* * *

Being fresh out of college with a degree in business and decent grades to back up that education, he had expected more than an underpaid job as an intern at some company. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and so Jongin found himself running coffee errands every morning from Monday to Friday at the inhuman hour of six thirty.

Jongin valued his sleep, but if he wanted to continue having the funds it took to live in his apartment, he knew he had to suck it up, and had therefore taken the poorly paid intern job, hoping he’d at least be able to get hired long-term and work his way up through the ranks. In turn, not even a third world war could get him to leave the warmth of his bed on weekends.

He didn’t hate his life, per se. Sure, he would have preferred not going on coffee errands for some stuck-up bastards sitting on their asses on fancy chairs in even fancier offices, but it wasn’t all that bad. He had a job, a roof over his head and food in the refrigerator, so, he supposed, he was better off than most and didn’t really have the right to complain.

But he was a human, and humans were impossible to satisfy, so complain he did.

“Why must he be such a picky asshole?” Jongin huffed into the phone, quickly checking for traffic before crossing the street in his haste to get to his destination, a cosy little café almost half an hour from his apartment. The café stood out from others in the area, the outside covered in ivy that crawled up the bricks, twisting around the old-fashioned lamps and leaving a very romantic and fantastical feel to the place, much more than one would expect to find in a bustling city like this one. Jongin liked it because there usually weren’t a lot of people, but it was still a bother. “Why can’t he accept a latte from the coffee shop just around the corner?”

“ _Because he’s the boss,_ ” drawled the voice on the other end, sounding utterly bored. Probably picking his nails, Jongin mused. “ _I’d send people on unfair errands, too, if I were rich and had that kind of power._ ”

“Of course,” Jongin said dryly. “I still wonder how you got out of doing coffee runs.”

“ _Bribery,_ ” the voice responded easily. “ _You’re bringing me my bubble tea, right?_ ”

Jongin heaved a sigh of defeat and just narrowly avoided crashing into another busy pedestrian. “The usual?”

“ _Yep,_ ” the other quipped, sounding pleased - and smug. “ _Ah, I gotta go. Said asshole demands my attention. See you when you get here!_ ”

“Sure. I’m almost at the café anyway,” Jongin said. “See you.”

And to think Sehun was an intern just like Jongin. You’d never guess it, with the way he added his order to the list every morning, always with a wide smirk. Some friend. Though, if he were in the other’s shoes, Jongin knew he’d do the same.

Sehun and Jongin had befriended each other halfway through college (Jongin still regretted the decision to pair up with Sehun for that project) and had been close ever since, especially with their shared love for dancing and dry humour. And whilst Jongin didn’t exactly think of himself as shy, he could count the people he talked with regularly on one hand, and, to be honest, he quite liked it that way. He did not need shallow friends that would stab him in the back the moment he looked away.

The two of them had moved into a small, cramped studio apartment during their last year of college and had planned on staying together after graduation, but that had been before Sehun met his current boyfriend. Jongin had, when Sehun mentioned an interest in moving in with Lu Han, insisted that Sehun did just that without worrying about what would become of Jongin and the apartment. So Sehun had packed his belongings and moved out that summer.

Jongin appreciated the quiet and privacy, but he sometimes missed the presence of another in the apartment. It got lonely.

With the café in sight, he quickened his step, crossing the remaining distance, and stepped inside to place himself in the line at the counter. Casually, he let his eyes wander, observing the few people already up and about.

It took him no more than five seconds to spot the figure near the window, though he looked away before the other man caught him.

Jongin had run into the man sometime last week on his way out of the café, late for work, and had apologised profusely before continuing on his way. The next day, he had seen the man again, this time inside the café, nursing a drink in his hands and watching the pedestrians through the window, an open book lying forgotten on the table.

Six days later, and Jongin still hadn’t gotten past the point of watching the shorter male from a safe distance. They were strangers, after all. He had no real reason to approach the other. Though that didn’t stop him from staring. Repeatedly.

Shuffling his feet, Jongin took another look at the line, mentally cursing at the people in front of him. Mornings were always so busy, even at a lesser-known café like this one. He pursed his lips and allowed his to gaze stray once more to where the man sat – or should have been sitting. Jongin blinked, puzzled, before looking around and nearly jumping in surprise when he found said man right behind him.

Their eyes met and Jongin saw recognition flicker in those warm, brown orbs.

“Oh,” the man said, “it’s you.”

And suddenly Jongin felt guilt wash over him anew for rushing away that day without even making sure the other man was alright. “Listen, I’m really sorry for -”

The man waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not angry.” A short pause, and then he continued, “You looked like you were in a hurry. Did you make it in time for whatever?”

Jongin shrugged half-heartedly, inwardly loving the low, soft tone of the other man’s voice. “Barely. I got there a few minutes late.”

He eyed the empty cup in the man’s hands, realising he was probably going for a refill, and was struck by an idea. “As an apology, how about I pay for your coffee?”

The man tilted his head in a way resembling that of a puppy and Jongin had to restrain himself from cooing at the sight. “Are you sure? It really isn’t a problem. I got the stains off quickly.”

Jongin cringed. He’d even spilled some of the coffee on the man? “I am _so_ sorry. Were you hurt?”

The male shook his head, smiling shortly. “I wasn’t, don’t worry.”

Jongin heaved a relieved sigh. “Good. And yes, I’m sure. I’ll pay,” he said, glancing at the line. They were almost up front, so while waiting, Jongin could take the time to appreciate the appearance of the man by his side.

He was around half a head shorter than Jongin, with dark hair (Jongin really wanted to card his fingers through it, just to see if it really were as soft as it looked) that fell into wide, expressive eyes, a cute nose and full lips that, Jongin had noted, formed a heart when they pulled into a smile. He was wearing a dark red sweater underneath a black jacket, dark grey denim hugging a pair of nice legs.

Jongin really wanted to talk more with the man, but he couldn’t muster up the courage to open his mouth, least of all think of anything to say. Maybe he was shyer than he thought.

“I’ve seen you around,” the male said suddenly, meeting Jongin’s surprised eyes with a smile. “You come here every morning, right?”

“Yeah,” Jongin said, running a hand through his black hair and shrugging. “I think my boss has a streak of sadism, always sending me on coffee errands.”

The man chuckled, almost throwing Jongin into cardiac arrest with how gentle the sound was, and Jongin kind of really wanted to hear it again.

“If… May I…” Jongin tried, biting down his lip shortly before starting over with, “May I know your name? I mean…”

The man stuck out his hand for Jongin to take, sending him a gummy smile this time, and Jongin definitely wanted to know more about this man. “Do Kyungsoo.”

Jongin accepted his hand and shook it, allowing himself to bask in the warmth and softness, how the hand fit perfectly in his own, for just a short while, before he let go and said, “Do Kyungsoo-ssi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Kim Jongin.”

They were next in the line, so they placed their orders and, after Jongin had taken care of the payment, waited in a comfortable silence for the coffee to be brewed.

“Do you… Might you want to sit with me for a while before you leave?” Kyungsoo asked as he accepted his coffee from the barista, voice subdued in what Jongin suspected was hesitation or shyness or maybe both or maybe neither. “I mean, if you aren’t running late or…” He trailed off.

Jongin wasn’t late, no, but he didn’t have time to stay, either. Yet that didn’t stop him from accepting the offer. “I’d like that.”

He grabbed his order and followed Kyungsoo to the table he had occupied before, book still there as a place card. After sitting down, Jongin took his own coffee from the holder, hoping the rest would stay hot until he got to work, and held it between his palms. Sneaking a glance up at Kyungsoo, he found the male with a small smile as he sipped the drink in his hands.

“So…” Jongin trailed off again, unsure of what he should say. The expectant look Kyungsoo was throwing his way didn’t help, either. “I, uh… have seen you here in the mornings, too. Do you come here a lot?”

“I enjoy the tranquillity here,” answered Kyungsoo, his eyes leaving Jongin to stare out of the window. There was something there, Jongin thought, in Kyungsoo’s expression, something he couldn’t quite place. “Here, I am… free.”

He paused before looking back at Jongin, a smile finding its way to his lips again, replacing the distant look in his eyes that had come when he looked away. “So, what do you do aside from coffee errands?”

Jongin shrugged. “I’m an intern. After graduation, I was in need of money, and I ended up taking an internship at one of the law firms uptown. The pay is shit, but it’s enough to get by with.”

He sipped to the drink, grimacing when the liquid burned his tongue. “As an intern, I just have to do as the boss says. Do some paperwork, follow him around, observe, stuff like that. Pretty boring, really, but it’s all I have for now. I hope to become a dance teacher in the future.”

“Oh, you’re the artsy type,” said Kyungsoo. “You do look like a dancer.” Another pause where he seemed to consider his words. Then, softly, he said, “I get it, though. I’m not much of a dancer, but I like to sing. Love it, actually. But…”

“But..?” Jongin prompted, tentatively, when Kyungsoo didn’t continue. The man frowned, then shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said. “It’s just…” He made a vague hand gesture. “I’ve wanted to go to singing lessons for quite a while, but someone…”

Another pause, this one longer than the last. Kyungsoo had his gaze on his coffee, fingertips tapping idly against the cup. Then he sighed and looked back up at Jongin, a faint smile on his lips. “My singing isn’t that great, so… I’d probably just waste the teacher’s time.”

The soft chuckle Kyungsoo gave somehow felt wrong to Jongin, but he had only known the man’s name for all of fifteen minutes, so who was he to decide whether his laugh was fake or not?

He straightened in his seat, throwing Kyungsoo a smile. “If… If you will let me, I’d love to hear you sing one day. I’m sure your voice is wonderful.”

The way Kyungsoo’s lips widened in a shy but pleased smile made Jongin’s stomach do weird flip-flops, and he didn’t know if he liked the feeling.

“I’d love to,” said Kyungsoo softly. His eyes dropped to his coffee again, then suddenly widened. “Oh, shit, I almost forgot!” He quickly rose from his seat, coffee and book in hand, sparing Jongin a half-smile.

“I have to go,” he said. He shifted his stance, rubbing his arm with his free hand. “Maybe… If you’d like, we can talk again tomorrow? I’ll be here.”

Jongin smiled, grabbing his bag and coffee and standing as well, following Kyungsoo to the door. “I’d like that. I should also get to work. Boss didn’t order iced coffee, after all.”

Kyungsoo laughed quietly, nodding at Jongin. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then. It was nice meeting you.”

“You, too,” said Jongin, and the two split up, Kyungsoo heading to wherever, Jongin to work. A quick glance at his phone told him that he was running late, and with a groan, he sped up. Sehun would have to forgive him for not bringing him his bubble tea.

Despite being late, and despite the threat of the coffee going cold, Jongin found himself smiling.

Do Kyungsoo. The man he’d run into, spilled coffee on, noticed every morning in the café following that incident, always sitting by the window in the corner. Do Kyungsoo. Jongin finally had a name on the man with the sweet smile and the kind eyes.

And he couldn’t wait for tomorrow to see him again.

B

Jongin shoved his hands down the pockets of his jeans, throwing restless glances at his phone to check the time. Rocking on his heels, he absently noted that Kyungsoo was ten minutes late.

It was the weekend after their name exchange, and Jongin had - after building up an insane amount of courage - asked if Kyungsoo wanted to meet up outside of their regularly scheduled half-hour meetings in the morning. Kyungsoo had said yes, so they decided to meet up Saturday at noon at _their spot_ , and if anything could get Jongin out of bed and presentable before two in the afternoon on weekends, it was Kyungsoo.

Checking his phone, again, he saw no new messages from Kyungsoo (they had exchanged numbers four days prior) and sighed. Fifteen minutes.

He shouldn’t really be that surprised by the man running behind. While Kyungsoo didn’t show it, Jongin had come to find the man was rather busy, or at least, preoccupied. It didn’t necessarily bother Jongin. It was just one of the many things he had learned about Kyungsoo, and over the past few conversations, he had learned quite a lot. And for the most part, Jongin loved every new detail about Kyungsoo he learned, like the fact that Kyungsoo worked as a secretary, how he loved coffee but despised tea, how he disliked sleeping the whole day away (unlike Jongin) and how he enjoyed cooking and just relaxing with a book.

Consequently, Jongin had used that newfound knowledge to his advantage. He was dressed in a white wifebeater underneath a black V-neck pullover and fitted black jeans, partly because he liked the outfit, but mostly because Kyungsoo’s favourite colour happened to be black. It was casual, Jongin thought, which was what their meeting was, even if he found himself still nervous at the idea. This was a simple get-together, not a date, no matter how much Jongin lamented that fact.

The shorter male fascinated him right from the very start, and that interest had only grown as time went by. Now that he was communicating with the man that often occupied his thoughts - maybe more often than he cared to admit - on an almost daily basis, the infatuation started going beyond that of appearance, and the more he learned about the man, the closer he got to the edge. A little push and he’d be falling, and he’d fall hard, helpless to stop it.

He shifted on his feet, taking another glance at his cell. Twenty-five minutes late.

He wondered why Kyungsoo was running behind today. The man was usually good about giving him a heads up when he was not going to be on time, but so far, Jongin had not heard from him. Why hadn’t he texted him? Jongin had half a mind to message him and ask, but he didn’t want to come across as pushy or impatient. He could wait for a little more. The weather was nice. No problem.

Thirty-two minutes went by (not that he was counting) before Kyungsoo was standing before him, chest heaving from running.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” the short man gasped. “I - I forgot the time and…” A deep breath. “I’m sorry. I feared you wouldn’t be here.”

“I understand. Don’t worry,” said Jongin gently.

“I would have texted you, but…” Kyungsoo frowned, and then let out a quiet chuckle. “I… kind of dropped my phone, so I have to get a new one. Stupid.”

“It’s fine,” Jongin insisted. “I’m just glad you came.”

Kyungsoo smiled up at him, and Jongin felt how warmth spread through his chest to the tips of his fingers and toes and cheeks. He cleared his throat and shifted his stance, putting his weight on his left foot.

“So… Should we look for a new phone? Or eat first?” he asked.

Kyungsoo was dressed in a white turtleneck, making Jongin wonder how he could possible stand it. It may not be the hottest day they’d had, but a turtleneck certainly didn’t seem fit for the weather. He looked good in it, though, as well in the tight black pants, and his hair was styled in a purposeful tousled way that made him look… sexy. He really did look sexy, especially with those drops of sweat still clinging to his skin…

Kyungsoo ran a hand through his hair, the sleeve pulling back from the motion, just slightly, and Jongin blinked. What was that bright reddish colour on Kyungsoo’s wrist?

Before Jongin could even start considering grabbing Kyungsoo’s arm to take a closer look at what he’d seen and confirm or refute his suspicions, Kyungsoo was pulling him into the café, blabbering about how they “might as well get food now, seeing as we’re already here. We can shop for a phone afterwards.”

“I haven’t eaten yet,” Kyungsoo told him after they had ordered – a sandwich and a coke for them both. “I forgot to eat back home and have been busy since this morning, so…”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re going to eat before going shopping,” joked Jongin. “Can’t have you collapsing from hunger or something.”

Kyungsoo laughed softly at that. “No, I guess not. That would put a dampener on the mood.”

They chatted for a bit until someone called out their orders and Jongin stood up to retrieve it. When he came back, they immediately dug in, each enjoying their sandwich.

“How’s work?” asked Jongin around a mouthful of chicken, salad and bread.

“Good,” Kyungsoo answered after a short pause. “Answering phone calls is a very dull thing to do, though. Always saying the same rehearsed lines. What about you?”

Jongin shrugged. “The usual, although work is busier these days because of a new project. Sehun is still a whiny brat, who does a one-eighty when he’s around Han. It’s actually scary sometimes.”

“I imagine,” Kyungsoo chuckled and sipped to his coke. “How long have the two of them been together?”

“Almost a year,” replied Jongin.

Kyungsoo hummed and took a bite of his sandwich. “And still going strong?”

Jongin nodded and sighed, the personification of defeat. “They are still as lovey-dovey as when they first got together. It can be nauseating.”

“Jealous?” Kyungsoo teased and Jongin made a face at him, laughing.

“Not really. I wouldn’t even wish for my biggest enemy to sit through an hour in their company when they’re at their worst.”

This had Kyungsoo laughing, and Jongin smiled, knowing it was he who made Kyungsoo laugh like that and taking great pleasure in it. He really loved Kyungsoo’s laughter, the richness of the tone and how it scrunched his face in the most adorable way, gummy smile full on display.

After lunch, they went to get a new phone for Kyungsoo, and then they walked around inside a shopping centre, unwilling to part ways just yet. Jongin bought a shirt (because Kyungsoo said it looked good on him) and a new CD (because Kyungsoo recommended it).

When they tired of looking at things, they decided to go for ice cream as the last thing for the day. Jongin insisted on paying, so he got Kyungsoo vanilla ice cream and himself chocolate. They went to a nearby park to enjoy their dessert in peaceful surroundings, and Jongin led them across the park, away from the masses, to a bench somewhere more private.

“Why do you always lead us somewhere secluded?” Kyungsoo inquired, a thoughtful expression marring his face, though it soon turned into slight amusement. “Are you some mass murderer in disguise, trying to lure me in as an unsuspecting victim?”

Jongin released a light laugh, shaking his head as they sat down and made themselves comfortable, starting on their ice creams. “Nah. I just don’t care for crowds.”

In the shopping centre, he had avoided the shops with too many people inside, too. Kyungsoo hadn’t seemed to mind or even notice, but, alas, it seemed Jongin had been wrong, at least about the last part.

The older of the two (they had quickly learned that Jongin was a year younger than Kyungsoo and that their birthdays were two days apart, which had excited Jongin) chuckled. “What, crowds scare you?”

“It’s not really that they scare me.” Jongin put a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and swallowed, before continuing, “They just, I don’t know, make me uncomfortable?” He shrugged, taking another spoonful of ice.

“I see.” Kyungsoo tilted his head, appearing more serious as he tapped his spoon against his lip. “It’s… Is it bad? A phobia?”

Jongin shook his head. “Not that serious. I can deal with it for a bit, most times, but after a while, I start feeling… trapped, I guess. Like I can’t breathe. It’s just easier to stay away from it if I can, you know?”

“Ah. Trapped.” Kyungsoo’s eyebrows were drawn together in contemplation. “You feel trapped in a crowd of people.” He paused, before adding softly, “Does it make sense to feel trapped when you’re alone?”

Jongin hesitated, glancing at Kyungsoo in thought. “You mean like being trapped in your thoughts?”

Fiddling with the spoon, Kyungsoo pursed his lips and looked down at his bowl of ice cream. His legs were dangling from the bench, swinging back and forth slowly. “Possibly. Or just feeling vulnerable. I don’t like being out in the open by myself, nor do I like places with too many people close by. I think… I think it’s because I feel trapped. Or I fear being trapped. I fear not being able to find a way out.”

“I think I get it.” Jongin’s eyes slid from Kyungsoo to the people in the park, watching them as they came and went.

“Do you?” Kyungsoo asked with a small laugh. “Not many do.”

“Well, I’m not saying I’ve felt it before,” Jongin corrected, tilting his head in thought. “Being alone has never really made me uncomfortable.”

He paused, turning his attention back to Kyungsoo. “But we all have our own battles. I think a lot of things can make a person feel trapped.”

Kyungsoo let out a soft laugh, a small smile finding its way to his lips. Not quite a heart, Jongin noticed. “Like life. Trapped where you are, doing the same thing over and over again, you know it’s stupid, but you… You just can’t get out of it.”

“That’s when you need to do something about the monotony, break your habits, make new ones. There’s always a way out.” Jongin paused. “You don’t have to be stuck.”

“ _Is_ there always a way out, though?” asked Kyungsoo softly, and when Jongin looked at him, the older was pointedly not meeting his gaze. He rubbed at his wrist, the ice cream forgotten in his other hand.

Jongin smiled when Kyungsoo finally turned to face him. “I believe so. It’s your life.”

Something softened in Kyungsoo’s expression, emphasised by the upturn of the corners of his lips. He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

They finished their ice cream while Kyungsoo played around with his new phone and had Jongin type in his number again, and then they reluctantly decided it was time to part.

“We should meet up like this some other day,” Jongin said, voice taking on a shyer note. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at Kyungsoo. “What do you say?”

The other man’s nod had butterflies burst free in Jongin’s chest. It should feel uncomfortable, but instead he just felt happy.

“I’d like to,” Kyungsoo said, throwing Jongin a smile.

“Great!” Clearing his throat, Jongin rose from the bench, taking his shopping bags. “Then I guess… I’ll see you Monday, as usual, right?”

Another nod. “Yeah. Monday. We can decide on another day, then.”

“Sounds good,” said Jongin. “I’ll look forward to that.”

Kyungsoo laughed softly. “Same. Thanks for the ice cream.” He raised a hand in a casual wave. “See you, Jongin.”

It was only later, much later, when Jongin was nodding off in bed, tired from a long day, that he remembered the red mark on Kyungsoo’s wrist and that he never got a closer look.

a

Kyungsoo wasn’t a private person, per se. Jongin knew many things about the shorter male already, like his favourite colour and taste in music. However, he knew little to nothing about his past, his family, and his friends. When the topic shifted to anything more personal, Kyungsoo would usually answer vaguely and then, smoothly, turn the conversation back to being about Jongin, and Jongin wouldn’t realise until later.

He wondered why. Did Kyungsoo have a painful past? Were his parents gone? Did he have any siblings? Were they gone, too?

Jongin gladly talked about his friends, like Sehun, Lu Han, and Junmyeon (another friend from college, three years his senior, who had tutored him in statistics and was currently in China for work), and his family, his parents and sisters. Kyungsoo already knew a lot about Jongin, but Jongin didn’t know all that much about Kyungsoo. And for some reason, that unsettled him. Did Kyungsoo not trust him?

“Stop thinking. I can hear you all the way over here.”

Jongin blinked, startled from his thoughts, and glanced sideways at Sehun. “Huh?”

Sehun rolled his eyes and shuffled his feet, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Jongin a throughout unimpressed stare. “Your. Thoughts. Are too loud. You’re so distracted that it hurts me to watch you.”

Jongin narrowed his eyes at the younger, his so-called best friend. He’d have to find a new one. “Like you’re any better. You were a pain back when you started seeing Han. Hell, even before, back when the only words spoken between you were the occasional greetings.”

Sehun huffed and began to stretch his limbs, sensing they would get no further with their dancing. They were nearing the end, anyway. “I wasn’t nearly as bad as you. It’s like you’re trying to solve all of life’s toughest riddles.”

Jongin frowned and huffed, but was otherwise quiet. He followed Sehun’s example and started stretching, but, as before, his thoughts quickly strayed and he found himself thinking about Kyungsoo again.

This was their third week. They had met two times for something else than their scheduled talks in the morning, and Jongin had loved it (like he, as of late, always looked forward to running coffee errands; a very strange realisation). They had planned another meet-up after Jongin’s dance session was over, which was partially to blame for his distractedness.

Perhaps he’d get the chance to find out more about Kyungsoo this time. At least he hoped so.

“You’re going to stumble and break your neck if you keep this up.”

“Shut _up_ , Sehun.”

e

Sehun was picked up by Lu Han later, and Jongin bid them both goodbye with a careless wave of his hand, mind still occupied with thoughts of Kyungsoo. He _did_ catch Sehun’s muttered “He’s beyond hope”, though, and threw him a dirty look that had Lu Han chuckling and Sehun raising a brow, challenging Jongin to try and deny it.

Jongin pursed his lips, but decided against opening his mouth, although the smug look on Sehun’s face almost changed his mind. But then Sehun and Lu Han left (“Have a fun date with Kyungsoo, Jongin!” Lu Han had called after him) and Jongin decided, what the hell, he’d just ‘forget’ to bring Sehun his bubble tea next Monday. Sweet, sweet revenge.

He texted Kyungsoo to let him know practice was over, and then, at a lack of anything better to do while waiting for the older man, he went to stand in front of the mirrors and practiced a few steps that he could already do in his sleep.

Half an hour later, Jongin was still convinced traffic was just slowing Kyungsoo down, that there was a long way from Kyungsoo’s place to the dance studio, and that, maybe, his battery had died or he had dropped it again.

He kept dancing to the songs from the music player in the corner, his phone in his pocket, should Kyungsoo text or call in, explaining his delay.

Dancing wasn’t all that easy, however, when his mind was everywhere else but on that.

When his phone finally, an hour later, alerted Jongin of a message, he almost stumbled, but managed to catch himself before he reacquainted himself with the floor (and damn, was he glad he did, lest he’d have to look at Sehun’s smug face and hear his even more smug “Told you so”) and fished his phone out from his pockets.

Kyungsoo wasn’t coming.

Jongin willed his heart not to sink when his eyes ran over the seven simple words. _I’m sorry, something came up. Next time?_

It was fine. Of course. Stuff like that happened. Jongin had no reason to feel this disappointed, as though his heart were going to shatter. He was alright. They’d see each other another day. They weren’t dating. They were just meeting casually as friends. He _shouldn’t_ feel like he had just been stood up by a date, and he tried to put that carefree attitude into his simple reply.

_It’s alright. Next time!_

He stared at his phone for a while, searching for any hint in the written words that would give away to Kyungsoo how much it really hurt that he had cancelled their plans. Eventually concluding that his answer sounded casual enough, he hit the _send_ button and fell down on the bench lining the walls, leaning his head against the wall.

That night, after dancing himself to the point of exhaustion, he dreamt of the man with the heart-shaped smile.

k

The sun was hiding away behind clouds gathering on the sky. They were dark, foreboding a downpour later that day. A gloomy Tuesday afternoon, indeed, and yet, in spite of the threat of rain, Jongin just couldn’t shake off the smile on his lips.

All because of Kyungsoo.

The older man had apologised profusely already for cancelling their last meeting so suddenly, despite Jongin’s persistent assurances that it was okay. Kyungsoo then suggested going out for dinner, and he’d solemnly promised Jongin that he wouldn’t be stood up this time. Kyungsoo would _definitely_ be there.

And seeing Kyungsoo standing in front of their café, waiting for Jongin, filled the younger man with a sense of happiness that not many had been able to do.

To be fair, no one but Kyungsoo had managed that. And that’s what made Kyungsoo so damn special, what made Jongin want to keep him close and make sure his perfect lips were always pulled up in that perfect, heart-shaped smile that Jongin loved so much, especially when he was on the receiving end.

“Kyungsoo,” he greeted, and the shorter male looked up and beamed at him, and if anyone ever tried to tell Jongin that Kyungsoo wasn’t a stranded angel, they were obviously lying. “You ready?”

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo nodded, throwing him an amused look at the formality. “I am. Shall we go inside?”

Jongin grinned. “Let’s.”

Once inside and seated, waiting for their orders, Jongin, discreetly, tried to get more information out of Kyungsoo.

No matter how often they met and talked, Kyungsoo felt so far away sometimes. Jongin didn’t really _know_ him, and he wanted so badly to. He wanted Kyungsoo to let him into his life.

“Do you live alone?” asked Jongin, because he didn’t even know _that_. He focused on Kyungsoo in front of him and the slight frown that crossed his face at the question.

“No,” he answered after a short while. He nipped at his lower lip, then clarified, “I live with a… friend. Have been for almost two years. How was living with Sehun?”

“How is living with your friend?” Jongin countered. Noticing how Kyungsoo seemed to avoid his eyes, he added, “I mean, you already know so much about Sehun. You never tell me about your friends.”

“Right.” A tight smile. Kyungsoo reached for his drink and took a sip. “It’s… alright, I guess.”

“You guess?”

Kyungsoo shrugged carelessly. “It’s nothing spectacular. Say, how about going to the park after lunch?”

Jongin nodded. “Sure.” Refusing to back down just yet, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “For how long have you been friends with your flatmate?”

“Some years, give or take a few,” answered Kyungsoo.

They were interrupted by their orders being called out, and once Kyungsoo returned with their food in tow, their conversation picked up again, idle chat about nothing in particular. Jongin found he quite liked that, knowing he could talk with Kyungsoo about significant things, but also those little things that meant nothing, but had them share a laugh or two and a number of smiles. Therefore, he didn’t mind the change in topic, if only for a while.

It was in the middle of Kyungsoo inquiring about Jongin’s fondness for dogs, poodles in particular, and whether he’d decided on getting one or not, that Jongin noticed the red marks around Kyungsoo’s wrist. The man’s sleeve had slid up as Kyungsoo had run his hand through his hair, and it pulled away just enough for the skin to be exposed, if only briefly. The flash of colour had him recalling the time a few weeks ago where he had seen similar marks on the man’s skin, and he frowned.

They should have faded by now.

Suspicions once again piqued, he kept mostly quiet for the next hour, letting Kyungsoo steer the topic until they were out of the café and heading for the park. Not wanting to call too much attention to them, he waited until they were somewhere more secluded. Then he turned around and grabbed Kyungsoo’s arm, glancing up shortly when the man hissed.

He knitted his brows at the red marks around the thin wrist and, making sure to be careful, pushed up the sleeve of Kyungsoo’s bordeaux sweater, displaying a wide array of bruises in reds and greens and blues, most of them faded, healing. But some fresh.

He had had his suspicions, and so wasn’t overly surprised at the revelation, but he still wished he had been wrong. He really, really wished he had been wrong.

Kyungsoo’s expression was closed off when he hastily pulled his arm away from Jongin, who fixed the shorter man with an intense stare. “What’s this?”

Kyungsoo’s jaw clenched, and he avoided Jongin’s eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Jongin grinded his teeth and straightened, trying to make Kyungsoo look at him. _Damn it_ , why did he have to be so reluctant? Jongin was worried out of his mind. Who had done this to Kyungsoo?

“This isn’t _nothing,_ Kyungsoo. I’m not stupid, nor blind,” he said through his teeth, doing his best not to give in to the urge to look for more bruises on Kyungsoo’s body. Were there more? Where? His torso? Legs? Neck? It angered Jongin to know that someone was hurting Kyungsoo, _and Kyungsoo wouldn’t tell him._

A snort came from Kyungsoo, followed by a shake of his head. “If you were smart, you would stay out of this. It doesn’t concern you.”

Jongin blinked. “Kyungsoo, _please._ ”

“ _Don’t._ Just don’t, Jongin, okay? It doesn’t matter.” Kyungsoo turned his side to Jongin and cradled his bruised arm against his chest, but Jongin just couldn’t let it end there.

“It _does_ matter. To me.” Jongin pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to try to keep his voice even. “You’re… You’re my friend, Kyungsoo. And, clearly, something’s going on, and if _that_ –“ he gestured to Kyungsoo’s arm, pinning him with a pointed stare, “- is any clue, you can’t just ignore it and tell me it’s nothing.”

“I can,” said Kyungsoo, straightening his back and setting his jaw. “It is my life, my decision. If I say nothing is going on, as my friend, you should believe me and _let it go._ None of this has anything to do with you.”

Frustrated, Jongin ran a hand through his hair, leaving it dishevelled. “ _There are bruises on your arm._ And don’t take me for a fool,” he quickly added when he saw Kyungsoo’s mouth opening, presumably to try and deny Jongin’s words, to refute them.

“Those aren’t bruises that come from walking into a door, or falling down the stairs,” Jongin continued. “Those bruises were made by someone. _That_ is _abuse._ Kyungsoo, _please,_ don’t shut me out. _Who_ did that to you?”

Kyungsoo still refused to look at him, even the smallest glance. The silence stretched between them, Jongin watching him closely, biting his lip when he realised Kyungsoo wasn’t going to answer. So he tried again.

“Kyungsoo. Please tell me. Who did that?”

Kyungsoo was fidgeting, eyes falling down to his hand. “Jongin…” It sounded like a warning, but Jongin didn’t heed it.

“I’m your friend,” urged Jongin, “and I don’t want to see you hurt, especially not because of some asshole. Tell me, Kyungsoo. Rely on me. You can trust me.”

When Kyungsoo finally looked up at him, his expression was firm, determined. “ _Don’t you get it?_ I don’t want your help!”

“Fucking - _Kyungsoo!_ ” Jongin cried, reaching for his wrist when the male turned his back to him. “I -“

“Let me go!” Kyungsoo yelled, pulling against the hold. “You’re just like him! _Let go!_ ”

Jongin released him as though burned, panic mixing with desperation in his expression when he said, “I’m not. _I’m not._ I would never hurt you like he did. Who is he, Kyungsoo?”

Jongin had never hated someone quite as much as _that bastard_ when Kyungsoo finally met his gaze, eyes shining with unshed tears. And yet, there was a hard look in those brown orbs, arms crossed over his chest like a shield, protecting him from the world. From _Jongin._ “No one.”

His voice was cold, detached, to a point that it scared Jongin.

Silence settled over them, heavy and tense. Kyungsoo’s chest was heaving as he blinked rapidly, trying to make the tears go away. Jongin, himself, felt so lost. There was no way _no one_ was hurting Kyungsoo, that those bruises had come from nothing. He wanted to help, but he didn’t know _how_.

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin started, but he was cut off.

“ _No one,_ ” Kyungsoo snapped, shaking his head furiously. “It’s nothing.”

“Are you even _listening_ to yourself?” Jongin asked in frustration. He wanted to reach out for Kyungsoo, but refrained; doing so would only aggravate the man further. “How can you say this is nothing?”

“Stop it!” Kyungsoo’s voice had risen to that of a shout. “You have _no right_ to interfere in my affairs! Stay _out_ of my life, Jongin!”

No. No, staying out of his life was exactly what Jongin didn’t want. “Please, Kyungsoo,” Jongin pleaded, but Kyungsoo was already shaking his head.

“I’m not doing this,” he said harshly, voice sounding choked off, like he was close to crying, and Jongin’s chest hurt, as though someone were running him through with a knife, only to twist it in deeper with every passing second. “Don’t stick your nose into things that don’t concern you, Jongin.”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin tried again, with a hint of desperation this time, but Kyungsoo had already turned around and hurried off, not once looking back.

A gloomy Tuesday afternoon, indeed, Jongin thought dejectedly, sad eyes watching Kyungsoo’s back until he was out of sight, the drizzling rain drenching Jongin, but he didn’t care.

He only cared about Kyungsoo, and that _he_ had just left.

h

From: Kyungsoo, 4:37 pm.

_I’m sorry. Can’t we please just forget about it?_

 

To: Kyungsoo, 4:42 pm.

_I don’t know if I can._

 

From: Kyungsoo, 5:09 pm.

_It’s my problem. Please. Let me handle it. Trust me?_

 

To: Kyungsoo, 5:11 pm.

_Alright. Okay. I trust you._

y

The lights were too bright and too colourful, the music was too loud, and there were too many people.

Jongin still did not know how Sehun had succeeded in roping him into this. A night of drinking and partying didn’t really appeal to Jongin, not with everything going on with Kyungsoo, but Sehun had, of course, noticed Jongin’s silent brooding these past few days and when his prodding had gotten him nowhere near any answers, he’d gotten fed up with it.

And that’s how Jongin found himself in a newly opened club that Friday evening, following Sehun through the masses of people.

“You’re going to get drunk,” Sehun announced, shouting over his shoulder at Jongin, who only frowned in reply. “Stop that. I’m sick of seeing you acting as you have these past days, so now we’re going to loosen you up, find you a hot chick or dick. Have a good time. Just don’t _think._ ”

Jongin didn’t argue, because Sehun wouldn’t listen, so what was the point?

A few drinks wouldn’t hurt, he figured. A few drinks and then he’d leave. Lu Han hadn’t joined them because of work, but he’d be there later, and with Lu Han distracting Sehun, Jongin could leave without either of them noticing. Sehun would probably also be halfway to shitfaced by then.

Jongin hadn’t seen Kyungsoo since their fight three days ago. They hadn’t even met up for their regular meetings in the mornings, much to Jongin’s displeasure, who still had dutifully gone to their café every day. When he’d texted him about it, Kyungsoo had replied that he was feeling unwell and was therefore staying at home.

Jongin didn’t believe that. And while he didn’t exactly think highly of himself for mentally accusing Kyungsoo of lying to him, he couldn’t help it. Not after what he had seen, after what Kyungsoo had said.

Kyungsoo was probably at home, yes – but Jongin had a hard time believing it had to do with any illness. Rather, it had to be because of bruises, of _whoever_ had marked Kyungsoo like that. And Jongin was certain it was abuse, and he wanted to help, he really did, but how could he help someone who rejected his aid? He didn’t want to think of Kyungsoo as a lost cause, of someone who could never be saved.

And he couldn’t forget, either, didn’t _want_ to forget, even though he’d promised Kyungsoo.

He just didn’t know what to do, and that brooding had caused Sehun to abduct him.

Jongin had texted Kyungsoo in the car (neither Jongin nor Sehun owned a car, so Sehun had borrowed Lu Han’s) on the way to the club. _Are you feeling better?_ he had asked. Kyungsoo answered in the affirmative, and Jongin had then proceeded to ask him what he was doing later, casually mentioning he had gone out with Sehun in the hopes it would leave Kyungsoo feeling obliged to answer. The reply had been vague at best.

Pushing a little, he had finally gotten out of Kyungsoo that he had plans with his flatmate, and that put an instant dampener on Jongin’s mood and in some childish act of retaliation, he hadn’t answered Kyungsoo’s text.

And he held firm to that stubbornness. At least for five minutes.

A few more texts, and then the conversation had died – or, rather, Kyungsoo hadn’t answered in ten minutes and Jongin and Sehun had arrived at the club, so Jongin put his phone back in his pocket (after Sehun admonished him about it) and followed the other.

Now, seated at the bar, fortunately away from the larger masses, Jongin was nursing a drink in his hands and nodding now and then to show he was listening to Sehun (he wasn’t). His mind was still occupied with Kyungsoo, fingers circling the glass, round and round. What was he doing? Was the flatmate aware of Kyungsoo’s circumstances? Or was Kyungsoo putting on a show, his smile in place even if he were hurting?

“For fuck’s sake, Jongin,” Sehun exclaimed, and finally gained Jongin’s attention. “You’re pissing me off. Down that drink and let’s dance. I’ll help find someone who can get your mind off Kyungsoo.”

“I’m not in the mood, Sehun,” Jongin muttered, managing a half-glare at his supposedly best friend.

Sehun snorted and gestured at the drink in Jongin’s hands with a jerk of his head. “That means you haven’t drunk enough. Bottoms up.”

Jongin rolled his eyes and wished for Lu Han to get there soon, but raised the glass to his lips and emptied it. Then Sehun proceeded to drag him to the dance floor.

“If I were Han, I’d keep you on a leash,” Jongin commented dryly as they came to a halt and Sehun turned to face him, linking his arms around his neck and pressing close.

“He knows I’m his,” Sehun only shrugged. Then he grimaced. “Besides, I don’t fancy you. Never did. And he knows, so he never gets jealous. Now, stop thinking and move your ass.”

So Jongin tried, laying his hands on Sehun’s hips. And he almost succeeded. But he just couldn’t _stop thinking_. Sehun noticed this after a couple of songs, so he dragged Jongin back to the bar and made him take three shots with him, each one paired with an insistent look and a half-hearted argument against it, though Sehun always won in the end.

Jongin hoped the younger would have a bitch of a hangover in the morning, even if Lu Han didn’t deserve the chore of nursing his boyfriend back to health.

He found, however, that on the dance floor with Sehun’s body rubbing against his, and a now much higher blood alcohol level, he could lose himself in dancing. Besides, Sehun and he were easily some of the best dancers in the club, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention just a little bit.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to hook up with someone whose lips did not form a heart when they pulled up in a warm smile.

He didn’t know for how long he danced with Sehun and the occasional stranger, but he suspected it had been at least one hour before he headed to the bar to get another drink.But he was thankful for the breather, because dancing amongst the masses of people made him sweaty. And a little bit stifled, as well. He needed some space. Maybe some fresh air.

He bought a drink, locating Sehun while waiting. The younger was dancing with some dude, and Jongin rolled his eyes, shaking his head at his friend’s antics.

Something caught his eye just when he received his drink, and he turned on the spot, eyes following the two figures at the other end of the club. They were out of sight mere seconds later, having left through a door, and Jongin blinked, wondering if his imagination were playing tricks on him.

But a moment later, he was stalking across the club towards the door they had left through, something in his gut telling him this was important, that he had to look, that he had to _make sure_.

The door led to an alley, dark and foul smelling from vomit and urine, but Jongin did not let that faze him. Instead, he stood in the doorway, eyes scanning the alley. The people out here had gotten more than their fair share of drinks, and Jongin scrunched his nose when someone a few metres from him retched, their friend patting their back and laughing loudly. A third person seemed to be asleep against the wall.

But neither of those people were the ones Jongin were out here for. He frowned, worrying his lower lip, because had he just seen things? Where were they? Had they left?

A voice removed all doubt a minute later.

“I’m _sorry_!”

Jongin froze, taken aback by the plea, but also because he _definitely_ recognised that voice. And then he moved, trying to locate the voice, and stopped short when he came to an adjoining alley, running off to the side from the main one.

A tall man stood in front of Kyungsoo, pinning him to the wall behind him with both his body and an arm against Kyungsoo’s throat. Kyungsoo had his face turned away from the male, eyes closed, and it seemed to piss off the man, if his scowl were any indication.

With no warning, the man fisted his hand and sent it down, hitting Kyungsoo’s temple, and for a horrifying second, Jongin feared Kyungsoo had been rendered unconscious, witnessing the shorter man slide down the wall. But then he saw him grimace and run his tongue over a busted lip, his hands shaking as he clutched at the bricks behind him.

“You little bitch,” the man spat, shaking his hand and glaring down at Kyungsoo, who remained quiet, eyes lowered to the ground. “Get the fuck up.” He sneered when there was no answer. “Fine. Stay down, for all I care. Whiny motherfucker.”

The man walked away, heading inside the club again, wobbling just a bit as though drunk, and disgust welled up in Jongin at the realisation that he had been in the same room as _that man._

He was by Kyungsoo’s side at the blink of an eye, gently cradling his face. The younger man flinched, a whimper leaving him, and Jongin shushed him softly. “Kyungsoo?”

The male blinked once, twice, before recognising Jongin, and then he merely closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall and hissing when he tentatively ran his fingers over his temple. “Jongin.” His voice was rough, breathy.

“What happened? Was it _him_?” asked Jongin, carefully running his thumb over Kyungsoo’s lip. Kyungsoo winced again, but opened his eyes to look at Jongin, holding his gaze for a long breath. Then he nodded, back to avoiding Jongin’s eyes.

“Who is he?” Jongin pressed, gaze running over Kyungsoo, searching for bruises. A large one was forming on his temple, the skin an angry red and beginning to swell, and his lips were bloodied, but apart from that, Jongin couldn’t find anything else. He was pretty sure, however, that there were more to be found underneath the clothes.

Kyungsoo didn’t answer his question, and Jongin felt frustration surge up in him. He didn’t want a repeat of their last fight. He didn’t want Kyungsoo to close him off, to turn away. To run from him again.

“I’m sorry.”

Jongin knitted his brows at the unexpected words. “What? Why would you –”

“I didn’t want to go,” said Kyungsoo, a sardonic smile pulling at his lips. His eyes looked suspiciously moist. “I really didn’t, but he didn’t care. And he gets even worse like this…”

He inhaled shakily, leaning forwards and burying his face in his arms, hiding from Jongin completely. “I wanted to go home. I didn’t want to be here, and I told him, and he got mad. He _always_ gets mad, but I just…”

He was trembling, Jongin noticed. Almost unnoticeably so, but it made him reach out for the older man, trying to coax him into lifting his head by caressing his cheeks. His fingers came back wet.

His frown deepened, and he softly called Kyungsoo’s name to make him look up. Something broke in Jongin at the sight of Kyungsoo’s tears, of seeing him this vulnerable, and he lunged forward and gathered Kyungsoo in his arms.

Kyungsoo seemed to fight it, tried to stop himself from breaking, but then something caved in and he buried his face against Jongin’s throat, fisted his shirt in his hands, and let out a strangled sob.

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m s-sorry for lying to you.”

“Ssh,” Jongin murmured, carding his fingers through the soft locks of hair. “It’s alright. I understand.” He hesitated, but then pushed on, “It’s your flatmate, isn’t it?”

“His na- his name is Chanyeol, and,” Kyungsoo hiccupped, “and he’s my bo-boyfriend. B-but he, he’s… H-he tells me he loves me, but then he h-hits me, and he says everyth- that everything’s m-my fault, that he hurts me be-because I make h-him do it.”

Jongin was torn between going inside to strangle that fucking asshole, who _dared_ do this to Kyungsoo, and staying here to make sure the other was alright. The latter won out, though, because he couldn’t get himself to leave the crying male.

“Kyungsoo,” he urged, gripping Kyungsoo’s shoulders and gently pushing him away to look at him and wipe away the tears trailing down his cheeks. “Kyungsoo, it’s not your fault. He’s just saying that to mess with your head.”

“B-but what if he’s right?” asked Kyungsoo. “What if it _is_ my fault? Am I really as stupid as he says?”

“ _No,_ ” Jongin insisted firmly, “no, stop. Don’t think like that. Please.”

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo sniffed.

Jongin grinded his teeth. “Don’t apologise.” He groaned, eyes flickering towards the door. “I’m going to kill that asshole for doing this to you, for –”

A hand locked around Jongin’s upper arm. “ _Don’t_.” Kyungsoo looked up at him with wide eyes, shaking his head. “Do not confront him. He’ll… he’ll just take it out on me, or you. And I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“And _I_ don’t want him to hurt _you_ ,” Jongin said softly, brushing his thumb over Kyungsoo’s lip again. “I want to help you. I can’t stand sitting at home, knowing he’s doing horrible things to you. You don’t deserve that. _No one_ does.”

Kyungsoo, whose tears had stopped by now, although his eyes were still puffy and red, reached out and took Jongin’s hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said softly, and Jongin’s brows pulled together with how it suddenly felt like Kyungsoo was consoling _Jongin_ when, really, it was Kyungsoo who needed the comfort and assurances, not him.

“ _We_ will,” he insisted, but Kyungsoo shook his head and put their hands in his lap.

“No. I will. I don’t want you to get hurt. If Chanyeol finds out…” Kyungsoo trailed off, and Jongin bit his lip. “Please, Jongin. I’ll… I’ll let you help if I can’t fix this myself.”

Jongin nodded slightly, far from satisfied – because if Kyungsoo could fix it, he would have done so by now – but afraid to push the man any further tonight. He would let Kyungsoo have this battle, while he figured out how he was going to get him away from that monster. “Don’t take too long.”

Kyungsoo’s smile was enough to calm Jongin’s heart, at least for the moment. “I won’t.”

“You need to get looked at,” murmured Jongin, catching the man grimace as he helped him back on his feet. “To make sure you don’t have a concussion. That, and other possible wounds and bruises…”

“I’ll be fine, Jongin,” Kyungsoo assured him, patting his elbow. “It’ll bruise, but I’ll take care of it.”

The way he said it so indifferently, like it was just another part of his daily routine, had Jongin’s heart dropping into his stomach.

“I really wish you didn’t insist on doing everything yourself,” Jongin sighed, and Kyungsoo merely smiled softly.

“Knowing you worry about me is enough. It will give me the strength I need to get through this.”

Jongin couldn’t help but worry, but reminded himself that he just had to bide time. He would trust Kyungsoo, this time, and if Kyungsoo failed at rescuing himself, Jongin would do it for him.

“I…” Kyungsoo bit down on his lip, wincing when his teeth aggravated the cut, and looked towards the door. “I probably need to get going. Chanyeol will come looking for me soon, and then he’ll be even worse. I’ll text you, later. Let you know that I’m alright.”

Jongin nodded. “Please do.”

Kyungsoo threw him yet another of his soft smiles, and then they both headed towards the door. There they parted, Jongin grazing Kyungsoo’s hand with his fingers in assurance as the man slipped away.

It didn’t take long to locate Sehun again. Lu Han had arrived, so Jongin went straight to the bar and found a place to sit. His eyes immediately sought out Kyungsoo, and he saw him with Chanyeol, the taller man’s arm resting possessively around Kyungsoo’s waist as they headed for the exit. Kyungsoo’s bruises were mostly hidden from sight by the dim lighting and from how Chanyeol had pulled him into his side. They would not draw attention; had the wounds been created earlier, the bruises given the chance to turn darker, not even the shadows could have done much to hide them, nor Chanyeol’s broader build.

Jongin met Kyungsoo’s eyes just before they disappeared from sight, and he watched as the other’s lips quirked into the faintest of smiles.

It felt like a dagger to Jongin’s heart.

u

The first time Kyungsoo came by Jongin’s apartment was a few days after the incident at the club.

Jongin had been very persistent when he had invited Kyungsoo over for a movie night, partially to get Kyungsoo away from his flatmate from hell, but mostly so he could spend more than a meal with him. Kyungsoo had hesitated, but eventually agreed, mainly because Chanyeol wouldn’t be home for a few days.

Jongin still felt bile rise in his throat whenever Kyungsoo mentioned Chanyeol, but he had agreed to let Kyungsoo try to deal with this on his own terms, and he’d stand by that promise. For now.

“It’s nice here,” Kyungsoo voiced, standing in the living room slash dining room, eyes taking in his surroundings.

Jongin was glad he had cleaned before Kyungsoo’s arrival. Before, it had looked like a hurricane had been through the apartment. Not that it was spotless now, but it was passable for a bachelor.

“It’s nothing special,” muttered Jongin, scratching the back of his head as Kyungsoo turned to him with a soft smile.

“It’s much better than my place. There’s a… homey feeling here. Warm. I feel welcome.”

(Jongin wanted to tell him he was welcome to stay forever if he wanted, but figured a confession would ruin dinner.)

“I’m glad you think so,” Jongin said with a smile. “Uh… My cooking skills aren’t great, so I figured ordering out would be alright. It kind of fits the theme of a movie night, doesn’t it?”

Kyungsoo threw him an amused smile, accompanied with a raised eyebrow, and Jongin smiled abashedly. “That’s fine. How about pizza?”

“Deal,” Jongin grinned.

An hour later, they were seated on the couch with pizza boxes spread across their laps. After discussing a bit (having the same taste in movies made the choice easier), they had decided on the action adventure movie that was currently playing on the television. Jongin had never watched it, despite buying it months ago, and whilst it was quite interesting, nothing was as interesting as Kyungsoo, and Jongin found his attention straying from the television.

Kyungsoo, whose eyes were glued to the screen, wore fitted clothing tonight, tight denim and a sweater, and Jongin _knew_ the latter was to hide bruises. He was displeased at this, because he wanted Kyungsoo to feel safe with him, unashamed. Jongin would shower Kyungsoo’s bruised skin in kisses if he could, if that would make Kyungsoo stop worrying about it in his presence.

Wrong train of thought.

Jongin forced his gaze back to the movie, blinking rapidly and shifting in his seat to get more comfortable, mindful of the nearly full pizza box in his lap.

Better eat, lest his mind stray too far into unknown, _forbidden_ , territory.

When the movie ended, Jongin stood and gathered their pizza boxes to dispose of them, while Kyungsoo packed away the leftovers (Jongin had told him to just stay put and let him do it, but Kyungsoo wouldn’t hear the end of it). Afterwards, they took care of snacks and drinks and then went back to the couch, putting on the next movie and sitting back.

“Hmm, his acting doesn’t seem all too believable,” Kyungsoo mumbled a third ways into the movie, blinking at the screen. “He’s too straight-faced and his lines are delivered without much conviction.”

Jongin shrugged, reaching for some chips. “He is? I thought the emotions were just fine.”

Kyungsoo shook his head, pursing his lips in contemplation. “No, look closer. Focus on his eyes. Aah… There!” He pointed at the screen. “You saw it when he smiled, didn’t you? It didn’t reach his eyes as it should have. And his voice should have had a higher tone at the end of that line, instead of remaining flat. He doesn’t portray emotions very well.”

Jongin tilted his head and observed Kyungsoo in silence for a short while, before commenting, “You sure do know a lot about acting.”

A snort. “I would certainly hope so, considering I majored in it.”

Jongin blinked. “You have a degree in acting?”

At this, Kyungsoo seemed to shrink in on himself, pressing back into the couch, eyes fastened on the television in front of them. “I do,” he answered, and Jongin noted the hesitation behind those words and frowned.

“So you act? In theatres? Commercials? All that stuff?”

Kyungsoo stilled for a moment, before shaking his head slowly. “I, uh… No, I don’t. If I had done anything, it would have been musical theatre, but I never took it further than the classroom.”

Jongin’s eyebrows pulled tighter and he longed to reach out for him, because Kyungsoo looked uncomfortable talking about this. But he kept his hand in his lap. He didn’t know how Kyungsoo would react to his touch. “Why not? Changed your mind?”

This time, the silence lasted even longer, only broken by the noises from the television. Jongin observed Kyungsoo fiddle with his sleeve, gaze down, and Jongin _knew._ He knew before Kyungsoo even opened his mouth.

“People told me I would fail,” Kyungsoo said, and he shrugged, like those words wouldn’t have hurt to hear. Like it didn’t mean anything. And Jongin hated that.

“And Chanyeol?” Jongin countered, hating how Kyungsoo had yet to meet his eyes since they started this conversation. Just as he did when they ever discussed Kyungsoo’s personal life.

His silence was enough for Jongin. Jongin clenched his hands and opened his mouth, but this time, Kyungsoo was quicker.

“Can we not do this tonight?” he whispered, a tentative smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He was still fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, tugging it over his knuckles. “Please.”

Jongin leaned back in the couch and sighed. He didn’t want to drop it, but a selfish part of him didn’t want this night to be ruined, either.

“I like your company,” came Kyungsoo’s soft voice, and Jongin peered at the elder. “I like it because I don’t have to worry, because I can be at ease around you. I can breathe freely. I don’t… I don’t fear you. So, please, Jongin. I want to relax with you, not worry and dwell in my past.”

Jongin sat upright again, unable to stop himself this time as he reached for Kyungsoo’s hands and squeezed them gently. “I _want_ you to be comfortable around me. I will stop bringing up topics you don’t like, but remember your promise to me, okay? It pains me to see you hurt, to see the way you flinch when I mention _him_.”

The smile on Kyungsoo’s face seemed less forced this time. “I remember. And thank you, Jongin.” He squeezed Jongin’s hands before letting go and settling back, returning his gaze to the movie.

Jongin did, too, but his attention was never fully on the television. He instead found himself mostly watching Kyungsoo, the way his brows would furrow if he were confused or sceptic, the way he’d light up in a bright smile when something good happened for the characters, how his eyes would widen when a sudden plot twist made itself known, how he would look so close to tears when something sad occurred.

Kyungsoo was more worth watching than any movie.

Later, halfway through the fourth movie, Jongin startled when a weight suddenly fell against his side. When he looked down, the sight of a sleeping Kyungsoo met him. His chest tightened with both warmth and the knowledge that this perfect person was trapped in a relationship with someone who hurt him and would never _ever_ deserve him.

Hesitantly, he lifted his hand to push away a few stray locks of hair from Kyungsoo’s face, studying the peaceful look he wore in his sleep. He had never really looked this at ease, and it pained Jongin.

He turned off the television and made himself comfortable, before he reached out to carefully lay Kyungsoo’s head on his shoulder. His eyes followed the lines in Kyungsoo’s face, the nearly invisible scars (were they from Chanyeol, or innocent injuries from his childhood?), his strong eyebrows, cheekbones, eyes, lips. The pink, plush, heart-shaped lips that Jongin wanted to kiss, but couldn’t, because Kyungsoo wasn’t his.

When Jongin fell asleep, it was with his head atop Kyungsoo’s and one of his hands linked with his, fingers laced together.

n

“I don’t understand you,” Sehun declared. He had watched Jongin intently for the last five minutes and had, apparently, finally decided to speak up.

Jongin wished he had stayed silent.

“I mean,” Sehun continued in a drawl, throwing out his arms for dramatic effect, “first you’re this lovesick puppy, talking about Kyungsoo this, Kyungsoo that, and then you’re all moody and dejected, because of Kyungsoo, and _now_ you’re back to happy, lovesick puppy. The only difference is that you’ve kept your mouth shut this time around, but I know he is the reason behind your smiles, so, fuck, Jongin, you better spill the beans. Is he your boyfriend now or what?”

Jongin soured at those words. Kyungsoo had spent many evenings and a few nights at Jongin’s, and while they would always fall asleep on the sofa together on such nights, Kyungsoo never showed signs of taking their relationship further. He was being more lenient with his touches, frequently reaching for Jongin’s elbow or hand, and he had no problem falling asleep against Jongin (he had been embarrassed when he woke up the morning after their first movie night and had apologised profusely, because didn’t Jongin’s back hurt from sleeping in that position? He should have just woken Kyungsoo or gone to bed). But that was all there was to it.

“He’s not, no,” snapped Jongin when he felt Sehun’s heavy gaze on him.

“Then what’s holding you back?” Sehun prompted, raising an eyebrow. “I know you want him. Not even a peacock is as obvious as you.”

Jongin threw him a glare, and Sehun answered with sticking out his tongue. He quickly sobered up, though, and narrowed his eyes at Jongin. “Seriously, dude.”

Jongin sighed and shrugged. “I just… don’t know if it’ll work out. If Kyungsoo likes me back or not.” He wouldn’t betray Kyungsoo’s trust and tell Sehun about Chanyeol. Not now.

“That’s kind of the idea with a confession,” said Sehun with a deadpan stare. “You tell him you like him and then wait for his answer. Voila, problem solved.”

“You are such an ass. I don’t even know why I call you my best friend,” Jongin mused, studying Sehun carefully. Then he shrugged. “Nope. Don’t get it.”

Sehun rolled his eyes at him. “Admit it. Your life would suck without me.”

“Such confidence,” Jongin noted with a low whistle.

“Is that envy I hear?”

Jongin snorted and poked Sehun between the eyebrows. “You wish.”

Sehun grinned and swatted his arm away, before glancing at the big clock hanging on the wall. He then sighed. “Ah, still five minutes before we can clock out.”

“Deal with it,” said Jongin and sat down on his chair. Sehun had come ten minutes earlier to bother him for the rest of the workday, and he refused to leave Jongin’s cubicle.

“When do you plan on introducing us to Kyungsoo?” Sehun inquired, leaning against Jongin’s desk (“Such a mess,” Sehun would say each time he passed by, like he was any better). “It has been two months and we still haven’t so much as seen his shadow.”

Jongin pondered the question for a moment, because he wasn’t too sure himself. He hadn’t mentioned Kyungsoo’s presence at the club because of what had happened, and the few times Kyungsoo met him at the dance studio, Sehun would have left with Lu Han first. Kyungsoo had never mentioned an interest in meeting Jongin’s friends, either, so Jongin had never thought much about it. Until now, at least.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “One day? I’ll ask him soon.”

“You better, or I’ll join one of your morning dates,” huffed Sehun. “I’m your best friend. I’m supposed to know what your one true love looks like.”

“Shut up.”

When Lu Han came to pick up Sehun after work, he offered to give Jongin a lift home, an offer Jongin couldn’t possibly reject. That, however, ended up with them spending the rest of the day in the city, eating out, and when Jongin finally got home, it was already late.

He stayed up for a little while, sorting out a few things on his computer and taking care of other small tasks like laundry. Then he went to bed, sending a quick text to Kyungsoo ( _Hope you had a good day! Goodnight :)_ ), and played a few games on his phone. He then checked for any replies from Kyungsoo, before he set the alarm and turned off the light. Burying himself under the comforter, he let out a soft breath and closed his eyes, quickly giving in to sleep.

He didn’t know what the time was when he woke up, and it took him a few moments to realise exactly _what_ had dragged him back into consciousness. His phone was ringing, and he groaned, because he was certain it was too late for any calls, but he reached out nonetheless and checked the caller ID.

And immediately slid his finger over the screen to answer, because it was two hours past midnight and _Kyungsoo was calling him._

“Soo?” he asked, listening intently for hints that would tell him what this call was about. A phone call at two in the morning never boded well. “Kyungsoo, are you there?”

There was a sniff. “ _Sorry. I woke you up, didn’t I? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –_ ”

“Ssh,” Jongin hushed gently, sitting up in the bed and switching the phone to his other ear. “What’s wrong?”

A shaky breath, and another sniff, had alarm bells going off in Jongin’s head.

“Are you crying?” he asked, earning a muffled sound from Kyungsoo.

“ _I’m… I’m sorry, it’s late, I shouldn’t have –_ ”

“Soo,” Jongin pressed, and the other fell silent, aside from the occasional sniff. “Is it Chanyeol?”

Kyungsoo whimpered and Jongin bit his lip. “ _He – He came home d-drunk and angry, and I didn’t do anything, but he –”_ A muffled sob. “ _He started yelling at me, calling me… Ca-calling me things and accusing me and then – then he pushed me, into the wall, a-and h-he wouldn’t listen, and I’m scared, Jongin, he’ll be so mad when I get home and he’ll beat me again and call me stupid and –”_

“Kyungsoo, where are you?” Jongin asked, already up and moving around, rummaging through his room in his search for clothes, dressing quickly in denim and a loose shirt. “You aren’t back there, right? Where are you right now?”

“ _Can – can I come over?_ ” Kyungsoo said quietly. “ _I’m sorry for –_ ”

“ _Stop_ apologising,” Jongin said into the speaker, gnawing on his lower lip. “Of course you can come over. How far away are you?”

“ _I think… A few minutes,_ ” answered Kyungsoo, and Jongin nodded to himself.

“Alright. Should I meet you somewhere?”

“ _No. It’s okay. I’ll… I’ll be right there._ ”

“See you soon,” Jongin said softly, and then the line went dead.

He threw the phone on his desk chair and ran his hands through his hair, gripping the locks and shaking his head. Kyungsoo was hurting. He was _crying_. What had that fucking asshole done?

A glance outside told him it was raining, and _of course it was._ For how long had Kyungsoo been outside? How long had he been upset? How long had he been alone?

Jongin went to get some towels, one of his shirts and some underwear, because Kyungsoo would need a change of clothes once he arrived. And warmth, Jongin thought, dumping the clothes and towels on a chair in the living room on his way to the kitchen to make some hot cocoa.

In the middle of pouring the boiling water into a cup with cocoa powder, there was a knock on his door. He dropped everything he had in his hands and was by the door within second, yanking the last barrier between them away.

Kyungsoo looked pitiful, standing on his doorstep with wet locks sticking to his face and tangling with his lashes. He looked pitiful and _fragile_.

Jongin ushered him inside, locking the door behind him and turning to the shivering man, clothes clinging to his body, arms wrapped around himself –

“Why didn’t you put on a jacket?” Jongin asked, reaching out to rub warmth into Kyungsoo’s bare arms, mindful of bruises, although there seemed to be no new ones. He was dressed in only a t-shirt and loose pants and shoes, and Jongin wondered why, of _all_ times, Kyungsoo chose _today_ to wear a t-shirt and not one of his usual long-sleeved shirts. Perhaps this was his sleeping attire?

“I, I didn’t think,” Kyungsoo replied shakily, and Jongin wasn’t sure if what he saw on Kyungsoo’s cheeks were tears or raindrops. “I just had to leave, and I didn’t…”

“Ssh, it’s alright,” Jongin soothed, pulling Kyungsoo into his arms despite getting his clothes soaked. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

Kyungsoo broke down in his arms, fisting his hands in Jongin’s shirt and hiding his face away against Jongin’s neck as he cried. It was cold, but Jongin paid it no mind; he cared for nothing at the moment but Kyungsoo.

He let Kyungsoo cry, running a soothing hand through his hair and whispering words of comfort now and then, although he doubted Kyungsoo heard any of them, so lost in the emotions that consumed him. It didn’t matter, though, if just his presence were good enough for Kyungsoo, if he could be of help by simply being there. And if the way Kyungsoo clung to him were any indication, it was exactly what he needed.

It took a few minutes before Kyungsoo’s cries slowed down, became softer, and then –

“Jongin?”

Jongin leaned back to look at Kyungsoo, a question ready on his tongue, but instead he felt plush, cold lips against his own, and his brain short-circuited.

Kyungsoo was kissing him, and his lips were as soft as Jongin had imagined, if not softer, and it felt nice and right and Jongin was powerless against it.

Kyungsoo stole away Jongin’s breath with his kisses, insistent but gentle, and Jongin kissed him back in a similar manner, unable to believe that this was happening, that _Kyungsoo was kissing him_. It was surreal.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo whimpered against Jongin’s lips, and Jongin fought back a moan, trying to eradicate the fog in his head to focus on Kyungsoo. He had been crying (was _still_ crying?) and Jongin was here, but they were kissing, and he didn’t think that was how it was supposed to go…

“Kyungsoo,” he answered breathlessly, opening his eyes (when had he closed them?) to look down at Kyungsoo. “I… Why –”

“Please,” Kyungsoo whispered, brushing his lips against Jongin’s again. “Help me forget.” Another peck. “ _Please_.”

“I –” Kyungsoo shut him up with his mouth again, and Jongin found he didn’t really mind, although he supposed he maybe should have.

This kiss was hotter, more determined, Kyungsoo pressing against him, tongue licking at the corner of Jongin’s lips, gently coaxing his mouth open. Jongin moaned softly, palms flat against Kyungsoo’s back, urging him closer, closer still.

Kyungsoo was tugging at his shirt, slowly steering him forward. He had been in Jongin’s apartment often enough to know his way around and was thus able to guide Jongin to the couch in the living room, pushing him down and settling himself in his lap, not once removing his lips from Jongin’s.

The mix of cold and wet, hot and dry, was almost too much, and Jongin was rendered incapable of thinking of anything that wasn’t Kyungsoo. The breathy sounds that left his mouth at each exhale, his hands on Jongin’s shoulders, chilly fingertips on his neck, in his hair, on his face. Kyungsoo’s chest, his hips, his legs, spread out on either side of Jongin, his thighs, his cock when he rubbed against Jongin –

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin whined, dropping his head on the backrest, trying to regain his breath and failing miserably when Kyungsoo’s mouth fell to his neck, teeth nipping at his skin, tongue tracing his pulse.

“Please,” whispered Kyungsoo, sounding just as out of breath as Jongin, and Jongin whined again, baring his neck for Kyungsoo, who happily went about exploring with his tongue and his lips.

This was turning out a lot more differently than Jongin had imagined when Kyungsoo showed up at his doorstep, soaked and trembling from the chill. This was better than any fantasy he had ever had. Reality always beat imagination.

He couldn’t mute the insistent voice in the back of his head, however, reminding him of just how cold Kyungsoo was to touch and how he was still drenched from the rain. Kyungsoo had sounded so out of it in the phone, vulnerable, and Jongin felt as though he were taking advantage of him.

“Kyungsoo, wait,” he gasped, gripping Kyungsoo’s shoulders and biting his lip when the older halted in his actions – mouth on Jongin’s neck, hands under his shirt, _cold_ – and raised his gaze.

“I don’t – I am not sure this is the right thing to do,” Jongin continued, hating how he was essentially his own cockblock. Sehun would laugh at him and call him a fucking idiot, if he ever found out. Which he wouldn’t.

Kyungsoo frowned at him, pursing his lips, and Jongin _hated_ how cute it made him look, and he desperately wanted to kiss the pout away. “You don’t want this?”

Jongin groaned and dropped his head. “I, I do, but – you were crying. I’m not sure you… What about the Chanyeol situation? Are you clear-headed enough to not regret this tomorrow?” He cursed inwardly at himself. “I don’t want you thinking I’m taking advantage of your… emotional state.”

“Jongin.” Kyungsoo lifted his hand, gripping Jongin’s jaw and looking him in the eyes. “Stop thinking. I know what I’m doing.”

“You… You’ll catch a cold,” Jongin attempted weakly, causing a smirk to slide onto Kyungsoo’s face.

He leaned in, releasing Jongin’s jaw in favour of draping his arms around his neck, breathing hot air onto his lips. “Not if you help me take off my clothes. Warm me up.”

“Fuck,” Jongin muttered, lifting his hands to slide his fingers through Kyungsoo’s hair. “Fuck it.” He tugged at the older man’s locks and attached his lips to his throat, licking and sucking at the tender skin.

Kyungsoo’s moan had Jongin’s cock stirring, straining against the fabric of his denim, and he grunted, pulling back. He studied the mark he had left in his wake, a red-purple bruise slowly forming on Kyungsoo’s throat, and the knowledge that _he_ had done that, not Chanyeol, had his insides burning. These were love bites, not bruises left there without Kyungsoo’s consent.

Kyungsoo brought him back to the present when he grinded down against him, a whine tumbling from his lips. “Jongin – Jongin, touch me, do _something –_ ”

Cradling Kyungsoo’s face in his hands, Jongin leaned in and bit down on Kyungsoo’s lower lip, forcing another noise from him that Jongin wanted to trap in a jar and hide away to savour it forever.

Kyungsoo kissed him insistently, occasionally rolling his hips down against Jongin’s as they moaned into each other’s mouths, lost in the friction created. Jongin’s hands rested on Kyungsoo’s hips, fingers gripping tightly, pulling him down as he bucked up to meet Kyungsoo’s motions, whilst also trying to slow him down, wanting to relish what they were doing, lust shooting through him and straight to his groin.

Kyungsoo whimpered into his mouth, impatiently moving his hips as his hands moved under Jongin’s shirt to explore. His touch was icy against Jongin’s hot skin, but it did nothing to ease the building pleasure. Rather, it only seemed to heighten it.

Had it been any other man or woman, Jongin wouldn’t have hesitated for long before taking them on the couch. But this was _Kyungsoo_. And if they were going to have sex, their first time wouldn’t be on a couch.

He wanted to take it slow, but Kyungsoo was making it impossible for him. He was going to lose his shit in no time if Kyungsoo continued touching him like that, and he was too proud to come simply from grinding like some teenage boy.

And his bed was much more comfortable than the couch.

So, gripping tightly onto Kyungsoo’s hips, forcing the shorter to a halt, he swallowed Kyungsoo’s impatient whine and made to stand from the couch. Kyungsoo’s legs stayed wrapped around him as he rose, and then they slid down, feet hitting solid ground.

“Bedroom,” Jongin declared breathlessly, guiding Kyungsoo towards the room and trying not to lose the pressure against his lips as he did. He backed Kyungsoo up against the door, hand fumbling with the handle and stumbling in with the other man when the door opened.

He kicked the door closed, and then Kyungsoo was pushing him against the wall, teeth pulling at Jongin’s lower lip as eager hands tugged at his shirt. Jongin took the hint and allowed Kyungsoo to pull it off him and throw it unceremoniously on the floor, before flipping them around and trapping Kyungsoo against the door as he stole the breath from his lungs in another heated kiss.

“You are making it difficult to get to the bed,” he hissed against the older man’s lips. Kyungsoo replied by tilting his head backwards, hooded eyes looking into Jongin’s as he slowly, _teasingly_ rubbed his half-hard cock into Jongin’s. Jongin’s breath caught in his throat, and then he dove in to capture Kyungsoo’s lips again.

His hands buried in Kyungsoo’s hair while Kyungsoo took his time to run his fingers down Jongin’s back, blunt nails grazing his skin, and Jongin felt him smile against his lips when he shuddered and moaned.

Jongin slid his hands down to Kyungsoo’s sides, grinning when the smaller man squirmed, and rested his hands just under the other’s ass. Kyungsoo took the hint and hooked his legs around Jongin’s middle, allowing Jongin to carry him to the bed.

Jongin sank down on the mattress on his knees, laying Kyungsoo on the bed and placing his hands flat on either side of Kyungsoo’s head. He took a long moment to just look at the man, his kiss-swollen lips and the dark look in his eyes, sweat clinging to his flushed skin (or was it rain?).

A noise from Kyungsoo prompted him to reach down to the hem of Kyungsoo’s shirt. He hesitated, however, and looked back up, lips darting out to wet his lips before he asked, “Are you sure?”

Kyungsoo laid his head on the pillow and nodded, adding a smile for assurance. Jongin bit his lip and slid his hands up Kyungsoo’s stomach, shirt pulling up gradually, until he had bared Kyungsoo’s torso. Kyungsoo lifted his upper body and helped Jongin pull the shirt completely off, throwing it away to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor, and then Jongin once again allowed himself to take in the sight of the man under him.

The skin was as pale as every other part of Kyungsoo, but here there were scars and bruises, some small, some larger, some old, some newer.

Kyungsoo had gone quiet.

“Turn around,” Jongin requested, and Kyungsoo did so without question, Jongin lifting his hips and settling down again once Kyungsoo was on his stomach.

While his back also had a number of scars, a certain mark caught Jongin’s attention immediately, hand instinctively reaching out to trace the letters carved into Kyungsoo’s shoulder. _Chanyeol_.

The characters weren’t large, per se, the whole name just barely spanning the width Jongin’s palm. They were simple in form, carved into the skin meticulously, red a stark contrast to the white of Kyungsoo’s complexion.

To leave such clean lines, a knife had to have been used. And it must have been slow work. Painful.

Anger and a sudden wave of possessiveness rushed over Jongin, and he pressed his lips against the letters, wishing he could kiss them away.

Dragging his eyes away from the name, he took in the other scars, every bruise, everyblemish that was left by Chanyeol.

“Are you disgusted?”

Jongin lifted his head, but Kyungsoo wasn’t looking at him.

Kyungsoo had been impatient, provocative and demanding for most of the night, but now, with his back, his _past,_ bared for Jongin to see, he was back to sounding fragile. The hesitance in his voice had Jongin’s stomach churning in discomfort.

Jongin leaned down, mouth tracing one of the scars littering Kyungsoo’s back. “Never,” he spoke into the skin, moving on to kiss another abrasion. “ _Never_ , Kyungsoo.”

He kissed every inch of Kyungsoo’s back, paying particular attention to every scar, every bruise, fingers running over the skin as though he had the power to erase the marks. “You don’t disgust me, Soo.”

Jongin helped Kyungsoo turn around to lie on his back again, and then he leaned down to press his lips onto Kyungsoo’s, putting as much love into the kiss as he could. “Every inch of you is perfect. You are _perfect._ ”

Kyungsoo closed his eyes, and Jongin moved on to mouth along his jaw, throat, shoulder, hands moving down to slowly unbutton Kyungsoo’s pants. Leaning back on his knees, he pulled the pants off and tossed them away. His fingers came up to trace the waistband of Kyungsoo’s boxers, and when he lifted his gaze, Kyungsoo had opened his eyes and was looking at him, eyes burning with unconcealed desire.

Jongin slipped his hand under the waistband, and Kyungsoo’s choked off groan when Jongin’s fingers grazed his erection almost finished Jongin off right then and there.

He helped Kyungsoo out of the boxers, and then took in the sight of a fully nude Kyungsoo. The image alone had his cock straining against his pants, pre-cum probably staining the inside of his boxers, and he stole a quick look at Kyungsoo, smirking when he saw what Kyungsoo’s eyes were fixed on.

Jongin’s gaze returned to Kyungsoo’s body, spread out below him like an offering. He lifted a hand, palming at Kyungsoo’s cock, once again pulling a noise from the man.

Then Kyungsoo was sitting up, hands flat on his chest. “Lie down,” he said, and Jongin did as he was asked, making himself comfortable on his back.

Kyungsoo’s erection stood proud against his stomach, thick and leaking, and Jongin had a hard time wrestling his eyes away from the sight. Not that Kyungsoo seemed to mind much.

The older slowly moved down, until his hips were near Jongin’s feet. They made quick work of Jongin’s remaining clothes, discarding his pants and boxers on the floor.

Jongin felt his body flush when Kyungsoo’s hungry eyes sized up Jongin’s bare form, but he wasn’t ashamed. Anticipating, yes, nervous, perhaps, but not ashamed.

Kyungsoo met his eyes briefly, a slow smirk pulling at his lips, and before Jongin could really comprehend anything, Kyungsoo was already leaning down, tongue darting out to give the tip of Jongin’s cock a tentative lick.

Jongin forced himself to lie still, teeth biting down hard on his lower lip and hands fisting in the sheets at his sides, as Kyungsoo’s hot mouth wrapped around his head, sucking at the tip, licking up his length. Jongin whined deep in his throat, pressing his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes tightly, because _fuck_ , the sight of Kyungsoo’s plush lips around his dick –

“ _Soo,_ ” he whimpered, groaning when Kyungsoo’s mouth left his erection. It came back, however, Kyungsoo taking him deeper this time, tongue pressing against the underside of his dick. He moaned around Jongin’s member, and Jongin pressed his hand, knuckles white, against his mouth, the other moving down to grip Kyungsoo’s hair.

Kyungsoo sucked cock like a pro.

He knew just when to use his tongue, when to suck, when to take him deep and when to tease the tip, and Jongin was rendered unable to think clearly, everything revolving around Kyungsoo’s heavenly mouth.

Jongin wouldn’t last long if Kyungsoo kept going like this, so it was with great regret and willpower that he tightened his hold in Kyungsoo’s hair, halting his actions. “Wait, Soo, I won’t –”

Kyungsoo came up to him again, the mouth that had been around Jongin’s dick just seconds prior pressing against Jongin’s lips in a lazy kiss. Jongin registered the faintest taste of himself on Kyungsoo’s tongue, but instead of feeling repulsed, it only made him hotter.

Kyungsoo moved back, ass pressing down on Jongin’s erection, and Jongin had to strangle a groan at the sensation. He wanted Kyungsoo, _God,_ he _needed_ him, needed to be inside him.

The man looked down at him, something dark flashing in his eyes (lust, Jongin thought), tongue darting out to lick his lips, an act Jongin considered sinful. Then Kyungsoo leaned down, teeth grazing Jongin’s ear as he whispered, “Make love to me, Jongin. Help me forget his touch. _Please._ ”

Jongin ran his hands up Kyungsoo’s sensitive sides, feeling short of breath. “Are you sure?” he asked for the second time that night, though if Kyungsoo asked him to stop now, he wasn’t so sure he would be able to.

Fortunately, Kyungsoo nodded, moving down to press his lips against Jongin’s softly. “Yes.”

“Alright,” Jongin breathed, pushing Kyungsoo back to roll to the side, rummaging through the upper drawer of his bedside table for a bottle of lube and a condom. Falling back on the bed, he dropped the condom somewhere on the mattress to his left and opened the lube, but Kyungsoo took it from his hands before he could do anything with it.

Kyungsoo poured some onto his fingers, rubbing them together before he lifted his hips, hand disappearing behind his back. Jongin watched with rapt attention as Kyungsoo’s face pulled up in a slight grimace, a deep moan slipping out from his lips when he pressed two fingers into himself.

If the act of Kyungsoo licking his lips were sinful, _this_ was downright _lethal_.

Kyungsoo’s eyes rolled back into his skull, mouth parted, small delicious, breathless whiny sounds falling from his lips as he fucking himself open with his fingers. It was by far the most arousing sight Jongin had ever seen, and if he had less self-control, he’d have come by it alone.

Jongin was considering helping Kyungsoo out, but then Kyungsoo was removing his fingers, fumbling instead with the condom and more lube, and Jongin hissed when he felt Kyungsoo’s hands on his cock, slipping the condom onto him.

Their eyes met once again, and stayed locked as Kyungsoo positioned himself above Jongin. Their gazes didn’t waver, even as Kyungsoo grabbed Jongin’s length and slowly guided it to his entrance and sank down on it, the tip disappearing into Kyungsoo’s ass, swallowing Jongin up.

Only when Jongin was fully buried inside Kyungsoo did they allow themselves to break eye contact, chests heaving from exertion and pleasure and lust, their breaths laboured and senses tingling.

Jongin groaned at the sensation of Kyungsoo’s walls wrapped around him, and he wanted to _move,_ to thrust into Kyungsoo’s tightness until he was sobbing and begging to come,but he didn’t want to hurt Kyungsoo. He _never_ wanted to hurt him.

So he let Kyungsoo adjust, and when Kyungsoo finally lifted his hips from Jongin’s cock before sinking down again, it was bliss and they both moaned, too caught up in the pleasure to pay attention to anything else.

Kyungsoo set a consistent pace, meeting Jongin’s thrusts halfway, pulling groans and moans from them both. It wasn’t slow, but it wasn’t _enough_ , either, and Jongin whined and whimpered, needing more, _more_ , but Kyungsoo wouldn’t let him take control.

Kyungsoo’s eyes were closed as he fucked himself on Jongin’s cock, teeth pulling at his lower lip, huffs and grunts escaping his mouth each time Jongin filled him to the brim. Hushed cries of _yes_ and _fuck_ filled the room, mingling with their shallow breaths and the sound of skin slapping skin.

When Kyungsoo’s pace became erratic, thighs trembling, Jongin wrapped his arms around the older and swiftly turned them around, laying Kyungsoo on his back and spreading his thighs further apart.

Kyungsoo keened when Jongin pushed into him again from the new angle, hands fumbling for something to hold onto and ending up fisting the sheets as Jongin thrust into him fast and hard. Jongin felt the pressure build, his release _so close_ , and he grinded his teeth, gripping Kyungsoo’s hips and pulling him closer, onto his knees, Kyungsoo’s legs hooking around his waist.

Kyungsoo wailed, and Jongin knew he had found Kyungsoo’s prostate, so he kept up the pace and made sure to hit it dead-on with each thrust. He reached out with a hand, the other gripping Kyungsoo’s hip, and wrapped it around Kyungsoo’s cock, making Kyungsoo buck his hips and groan.

It didn’t take long after that. A few pulls was all it took for Kyungsoo to come, the sticky white fluid coating his stomach and Jongin’s hand, and Jongin met his end after one, two thrusts, spilling his load inside the condom, cock still buried deep inside Kyungsoo.

Drops of water clung to their skin, and the scent of sweat and semen hung in the air, but neither had the mind to care. Chests heaving, they laid in the aftermath, Jongin listening to Kyungsoo’s steady heartbeat, feeling relaxed and sated.

Eventually, when he was back to a regular breathing rate and felt more clear-headed, Jongin lifted himself onto his elbows and carefully pulled out of Kyungsoo. A soft sound left Kyungsoo, but he stayed down, eyes closed and limbs spread out, seemingly content just lying there. Jongin smiled softly as he tied the condom and threw it out in the trashcan.

He left the room and came back with some damp napkins, sitting down at the edge of the bed to clean up the mess Kyungsoo had left on himself. The napkins would take the worst, and then Jongin could clean the sheets after a good night’s sleep. Perhaps they could shower together tomorrow.

He lay down next to Kyungsoo, pulling the comforter over them. Kyungsoo snuggled against him, letting out a sated sigh against Jongin’s collarbone, before opening his eyes and blinking up at him.

Kyungsoo smiled warmly at him and lifted his upper body to kiss Jongin languidly. They exchanged lazy kisses, both tired but still searching for that connection. Then Kyungsoo laid his head on Jongin’s shoulder, humming quietly.

“Goodnight,” Jongin whispered, half asleep already, though he gathered Kyungsoo in his arms before allowing himself to give in.

“Goodnight, Jongin,” Kyungsoo sighed, and within minutes, they were both fast asleep, legs tangled and snuggled close.

i

“Am I yours?”

“Yes.”

“Are you mine?”

“Always.”

s

The following weekend, Saturday, to be exact, was the day Jongin finally got to hear Kyungsoo sing. Kyungsoo had come over to Jongin’s apartment that day, and after the older man had been caught humming, Jongin finally convinced him to sing for him.

It had taken some coaxing on Jongin’s part to get Kyungsoo to do it. The older man had paced for a little while, and then finally come to stand in front of Jongin, hands fidgeting in front of him. Jongin had reached out, grasping his hands in his and squeezing gently, telling the older not to worry, to just take his time and start with something he was familiar with, a song he sang often.

So, Kyungsoo had cleared his throat, warming his voice up, and then the first few, hesitant words rose into the air.

Jongin was enraptured right from the very moment Kyungsoo opened his mouth.

Never had he heard a voice like Kyungsoo’s, soft and gentle, yet firm and rough when it was called for, as his confidence gradually rose, and with it the volume. He would hit notes Jongin could never dream of reaching with as untrained a voice as his, had the talent to ensnare an audience like a siren, to pull at their emotions, make them hold their breath in anticipation. And like the willing soul he was, Jongin couldn’t help but be drawn in.

Kyungsoo was amazing, simply put. And to think Kyungsoo had let _people_ tell him he wasn’t good enough. How long had the man remained silent, hiding such a talent? It made Jongin’s blood boil, but instead of starting a discussion, he merely beamed at Kyungsoo when he gradually fell silent, a frown falling over the other’s expression.

“Was… Was it bad?”

“Are you crazy?” Jongin exclaimed, jumping in his seat and clapping. “You could sing for a living! Fuck, I cannot believe someone would –… You are incredible, Soo. Sing another song?”

Kyungsoo ducked his head in embarrassment, laughing quietly at Jongin’s praise. “It… It feels odd to sing for someone.” He cleared his throat. “It has been a long time since I’ve done such a thing.”

“Which is a waste of talent,” said Jongin, scrunching up his nose. “You are really great.”

Kyungsoo smiled softly at him. “I’m glad you think so.” He paused, before finding a streak of confidence that had Jongin grinning, watching the tension melt from Kyungsoo’s stance. “What song do you want me to sing for you?”

“Whichever you feel comfortable with,” Jongin replied with a warm smile, settling back in the couch and watching as Kyungsoo nodded to himself. After some thought, he seemed to decide on a song. He straightened his back and began singing once again, this time without as much hesitation. And after that, another song. And then another. Until Kyungsoo was half-heartedly complaining about Jongin’s insatiable appetite for music. Jongin had merely corrected him with a cheeky grin, stating it was only Kyungsoo’s music that made him insatiable.

Jongin wouldn’t mind sitting for days straight, listening to Kyungsoo’s voice and nothing else.

n

Their relationship was difficult to put into words. They were more than friends, but they hadn’t agreed on a term. They hadn’t really talked about it, actually, asides from whispered declarations in the small hours of the morning. But even if they hadn’t spoken about it, that didn’t keep them from partaking in the physical aspects of it. Even so, Jongin could feel himself falling harder with every breathless kiss, every gentle caress.

Jongin thought there were feelings invested from both sides, if Kyungsoo’s lingering touches and looks were any indication, so the only real blockade had to be Chanyeol and the fear he had engraved deep in Kyungsoo’s heart.

He had experienced first-hand some of the more mental scars left on Kyungsoo, like when he flinched at sudden touches and cowered if Jongin raised his voice (which had only happened once, due to surprise, but had taken Kyungsoo aback nonetheless). Or the way he would apologise over and over for harmless mistakes, afraid that one wrong move would have Jongin’s patience running out. It shattered his heart when Kyungsoo did that, because it only told Jongin how he couldn’t, wasn’t _allowed,_ to protect Kyungsoo from the man who had done this.

It had been weeks since Kyungsoo’s promise of handling things, and Jongin had as of yet to see any improvement or a sign that Kyungsoo was doing anything. And it wasn’t that Jongin blamed Kyungsoo. While he never claimed to entirely understand, he could at least imagine it was not easy to break free from someone’s hold over you, especially if it were at the threat of violence or the promise of love. And it was only made worse if years of being put down left you believing that treatment was all you would ever deserve.

But Jongin wanted Kyungsoo to be free, and he was growing restless. If there were no progression soon, he would face Kyungsoo and insist on letting him help, to call the police and have them apprehend Chanyeol on the accusation of abuse, and God knows what else.

It hurt Jongin, and he could only begin to imagine how much it must hurt Kyungsoo.

“ _‘Are you having a good day?’_ ” Sehun read aloud, looking over Jongin shoulder on the phone, and Jongin jolted and hid the cell as he swirled around, tossing Sehun a glare that had absolutely no effect whatsoever on the younger. “ _‘Soo’._ The message is from Kyungsoo?”

Jongin had gotten the message from the other only a moment ago and had opened it to read it. How had Sehun managed to sneak into his cubicle without Jongin noticing?

He sniffed, lifting his phone when another message ticked in. “Yes. Now, stop sticking your big nose anywhere near my business.”

_Chanyeol’s out of town the next three days. How does dinner at your place sound? I’ll bring the ingredients and cook._

Jongin beamed despite himself, quickly typing a response ( _Sure! Let’s say 5?)_ before putting the phone back in his pocket and turning to Sehun with a blank expression. He knew what was coming.

“Will I _never_ meet him?” Sehun whined, right on cue. “I mean, you’ve been seeing him for… how many months? Two? _Three_? When I started seeing Han, you got to meet him after a week!”

“I hardly think walking in on Han bending you over the kitchen table counts as a planned introduction,” Jongin challenged with a raised brow.

“Details,” Sehun scoffed, waving the comment off. “The point is, you’ve had plenty of opportunities to bring him around, and you haven’t.”

“Why do you think I’d want Kyungsoo to meet _you_?” Jongin deadpanned, grinning amusedly at Sehun’s affronted gasp.

“I’m your best friend!”

“The cactus in my bedroom is a better friend than you.”

“Hurtful.”

“Cacti are prickly, yes,” Jongin mused. He laughed at Sehun’s unimpressed face. “I will ask him soon. I promise.”  

Sehun grumbled to himself for a while, but then nodded. “Fine. I’ll take what I can get.”

“Obviously, since you now have Han.”

“What are you hinting at?”

Jongin whistled, fishing out his phone again to check for new messages. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Kyungsoo had replied with a simple, _I’ll be there at five. See you!_ Jongin smiled, excited at the prospect of spending an evening with Kyungsoo, possibly a night, too, and tomorrow.

Sehun was narrowing his eyes at him when Jongin looked back up from his phone. He lifted a brow at Jongin’s innocent expression.

“Don’t even try.”

Jongin shrugged, ignoring Sehun in favour of sending Kyungsoo a smiley.

e

Kyungsoo came over at five sharp that afternoon, carrying a grocery bag that he discarded in the kitchen after giving Jongin a warm smile in greeting. Soon after his arrival, he had thrown himself into cooking, leaving Jongin to hover nearby.

“Do you need any help?” Jongin inquired, leaning against the kitchen table and watching Kyungsoo chop scallions meticulously. Making quick work of that and placing them in a frying pan, he continued with the onions.

“Set the table, perhaps?” he suggested, tossing Jongin a quick smile before turning back to the onions. “This won’t take too long, and I know what has to be done, so there’s not much else for you to do.”

“Right. I’ll get to it, then,” Jongin nodded, pushing away from the table to find plates and utensils.

Kyungsoo had never cooked for them before, and the domesticity of it had Jongin feeling warm all over. Kyungsoo was in _Jongin’s_ apartment, in _his_ kitchen, wearing _his_ apron, and making food for _them._ It was comfortable, with Kyungsoo chatting with him from the other room whilst he set the table, and Jongin could get used to this. Could get used to having Kyungsoo around, all the time, like a flatmate.

Or a life partner.

Jongin wanted to see Kyungsoo’s smile every day. He wanted to spend time with him, lounging around during a lazy weekend or relaxing after a long day at work. He wanted Kyungsoo to be the first thing he’d see when he woke up and the last when he went to bed.

He wondered if Kyungsoo ever felt the same.

“It smells delicious,” Jongin commented when Kyungsoo came back with two plates of food. “What did you make?”

“Kimchi spaghetti,” answered Kyungsoo with a shy smile as he sat down in front of Jongin. “It’s my speciality.”

“I’ve never had that before,” Jongin mused, picking at the noodles. “But it looks good.”

“I hope it’s to your liking.”

They dug in, and Jongin quickly learned that not only did it _look_ good – it also _tasted_ great. He made a soft sound of appreciation, beaming at Kyungsoo to further show his approval, and continued eating.

“Sehun has been whining about meeting you,” Jongin said halfway through his second serving. “Would you like to meet him? And Han?”

Kyungsoo, having finished after his first plate full, nodded slowly with a thoughtful expression, tapping his fingers against the table. “I suppose… They sound like good people. Good friends.”

“They are,” Jongin agreed around a mouthful of spaghetti, “but they are also incredibly nosy.”

Kyungsoo snickered. “That’s how friends are.”

Later, after cleaning up together, they slouched on the couch with Kyungsoo’s feet propped up on Jongin’s legs, the former sprawled out across the cushions next to the younger man. Kyungsoo was busy playing around with his phone, whereas Jongin was content just watching some mindless drama on the television, his hands resting atop Kyungsoo’s legs.

At least, until there was a knock on the door.

They both looked away from their respective entertainment, and Jongin frowned.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Kyungsoo murmured, glancing at Jongin as he moved to sit up properly, feet falling to rest on the floor.

“Not that I know of,” Jongin said with a shake of his head. Maybe Sehun had decided to crash their evening? It wasn’t an unheard of occurrence. His friend had dropped by unexpectedly from time to time, citing one reason or another for the impromptu visit. But it wasn’t like him to do such a thing without at least a five minute warning text, and Jongin’s phone had been sitting silently on the coffee table since dinner.

But then again, Sehun was the only one who’d enter after a single knock, and Jongin sighed as he heard the door opening. Nosy bastard just couldn’t wait.

“Sehun?” he called. “If you –”

His voice died in his throat the moment someone who was _clearly_ not Sehun entered the room. Instead of the smug smile of his friend, Jongin was greeted with the sight of Chanyeol walking through the doorway, head tilted and arms folded across his chest.

Jongin shot up from his seat, catching himself on the table when his balance almost threw him off, slightly dizzy from rising too quickly. He pushed through the disorienting sensation, though, and went to stand in front of Kyungsoo, who had also stood up at the sight of Chanyeol, eyes wide and hands fisted at his sides.

Jongin made sure Kyungsoo was safe behind him before fixing his glare on Chanyeol. How did he even know where to find Kyungsoo? They had been so careful.

“Get out of my apartment,” he hissed.

Chanyeol snorted at the words, an amused look in his eyes as he shook his head. “Not until I retrieve what is mine.”

“I won’t allow you to hurt him anymore,” Jongin said, anger rising. “He doesn’t belong to you, so _stay away from him._ ”

Chanyeol cocked a single eyebrow and smirked at him. “And who are you to tell me that?”

“Someone who cares for him, which is more than what can be said about you.”

He spoke with a firm tone, yet his heart was racing away behind his ribcage, adrenaline rushing through him. He shouldn’t be nervous, but Chanyeol’s smirk, the knowing tilt of his head, had chills running down his spine, sweat gathering on his forehead and in his palms. His knuckles blanched white as he curled his fingers into a fist, before forcing them to open once more, drying them off on the fabric of his pants.

Jongin startled when arms slowly embraced him from behind and he felt Kyungsoo’s warm chest press against his back.

Chanyeol was still standing in the doorway, and the dizziness hadn’t gone away, the fog not clearing from his mind like it was supposed to. In fact, the dizziness had worsened, and he was starting to feel weak in his knees.

Kyungsoo’s breath hit the back of his neck, plush lips mouthing along his skin and up to his ear. A puff of air, and then Kyungsoo was saying something, whispering just loud enough for him to hear, “You can feel it already, can’t you? The shift in your balance, the increase in your heart rate as you get more and more sluggish?”

“What?” Jongin breathed, blinking, trying to clear his head, because this wasn’t making sense. He reached up, clumsily clutching at Kyungsoo’s hand as it rested on his stomach, only then noticing the tremble in his own fingers. What was going on? “Soo..?”

Without warning, his knees gave way underneath him, and only Kyungsoo’s arms around his middle kept him from falling, catching him halfway. Kyungsoo eased him down on the floor as his breath turned ragged, smiling brightly at him when he was finally on his back.

Jongin’s body felt heavy, limbs like lead, wanting to sink into the floor. He couldn’t move, and everything felt strange, his thoughts a mess in his head, escaping his grasp when he tried to get a hold of them.

But he could see Kyungsoo from where he rolled his head to the side. He watched as the smaller man stood up, could see him as he approached Chanyeol and laid his hand on one of his cheeks.

“You did so well,” Kyungsoo hummed, hand moving south to fist Chanyeol’s collar and tugging him down, crushing their lips together in a rough kiss and pulling a muffled groan from the taller.

Jongin felt cold, his blood turning to ice in his veins. He would have cried out, would have stood up, would have done _something_ , if only he had had the energy. As it was, the task of breathing was near impossible, and Jongin suddenly wanted to cry.

Kyungsoo stepped away from Chanyeol, releasing the man’s shirt and smoothing the fabric against his chest. Then they both turned to Jongin. The corner of Kyungsoo’s lips pulled upwards, and he slowly came to stand by Jongin’s side, kneeling and taking his face in his hands. Cooing softly when Jongin’s breath hitched, he caressed the younger man’s cheekbones, leaning over him as he spoke.

“Betrayal is the worst kind of pain, isn’t it?”

He came closer, stilling momentarily before pressing his mouth against Jongin’s, harsher than he was used to with Kyungsoo. He tried to pull away, fought with everything he had, but Kyungsoo held him still, pressed the kiss harder against his lips.

“You were sweet, Jongin,” he whispered, words seared into his skin. “I really liked you.”

He sighed, letting his fingers trail along Jongin’s face as he rose to his feet again, letting Jongin’s head fall back to the floor. “But the world is cruel.”

Jongin whimpered, lungs refusing to take in air and eyes stinging with tears. He was scared, so fucking terrified, the air getting stuck in his throat. He tried to cough, but even that seemed too strenuous a task.

And then there were hands pressing down on his neck, cutting off his airway, and yet he tried to push words through his lips, tears spilling when his gaze met Kyungsoo’s cold eyes. He tried calling Kyungsoo’s name, wanted to ask _why_ , wanted so many things, but he couldn’t.

“How do you want it, Soo?”

“Fire this time, Chanyeol. Burn the place down.”

The last thing Jongin saw was Kyungsoo’s heart-shaped lips, smiling, warm and bright and kind.

And how it twisted into something far darker.

x

_The dim lighting in the bar created an enigmatic atmosphere, making it easier to blend in with the crowds on the floor or hide away in the shadows in the corners._

_Two people were currently sitting in one such corner, keen eyes watching the people on the dancefloor as they lost themselves to the bass and the alcohol in their cups, colourful liquid spilling from the edges._

_The consistent tapping of nails against the table could barely be heard over the music playing from the loudspeakers, but the taller of the two listened attentively to it, drowning out the noises around them, and only when the tapping came to a stop did he turn to face his partner._

_“What are you thinking?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow and tilting his head in the general direction of floor._

_The other male hummed, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms over his chest. He pursed his lips in thought, gaze trailing to the floor again before sliding back to the other. His lips pulled up in a smirk._

_“I’m thinking this place has a lot of potential,” he mused, slowly, hooded eyes running over the taller man’s figure lazily. Then he straightened his back and leaned forward, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Tell you what. I’ll let you choose, this time.”_

_“You don’t let me choose often,” the taller man commented, and the other shrugged._

_“I’m feeling generous.”_

_The taller raised a brow, but then a slow smile slid over his lips. He turned away from his partner, gaze once again taking in the people on the floor. Observing. Searching._

_They had been here a few times already, staked out in the corner, from which they had the best view of the bar and the many young men and women that flocked here from night to night. Here, they could single out their next target without anyone interrupting them._

_His eyes rested on a few potential choices, but never for long. He was more interested in one of those young men he had watched a few days before, the man who had interrupted a fight between two brawny men and a slimmer one despite his own short stature. Feisty, and full of confidence. A person who stuck up for the underdog._

_The kind of person they wanted._

_His mouth formed a smirk when he found who he was looking for._

_He turned to his partner and gestured to the bar. “See that one over there? The pretty one, with the bright smile and the eyeliner? I want him to play.”_

_The shorter of the two followed his line of sight, and a slow smile crawled across his lips. “Ah. Pretty, indeed.”_

_He faced the other again, lifting a finger and beckoning him closer. Once close enough, he closed the distance between them and kissed him, softly, then aggressively, possessively, before leaning away and standing up._

_The taller didn’t let him get far before swatting his ass, leaning back against the booth with a playful smirk._

_“I’ve always loved your acting, Soo.”_

_The low timbre of the other’s voice had Kyungsoo forcing a shudder down. He paused, turning to look at the man and smiling slyly._

_“Is that so?” he purred, advancing on the other once more and settling himself in his lap without a second thought._

_The man laughed deeply, an arm snaking around his partner’s waist. “You know so. I never kept it a secret.” He tilted his head back, watching Kyungsoo through half-lidded eyes as the shorter mouthed along his throat. “It’s so hot when you slip into character and back out, how quickly you drop the sad expression in favour of a smirk.”_

_A moan was pressed into the taller man’s jawline when he bucked his hips up, and he smiled. “I love how they see you as fragile, vulnerable. But I know that’s a lie.”_

_A hand reached up to roughly seize hold of the taller man’s hair, forcing his head back as Kyungsoo nipped at his skin. “That’s right,” Kyungsoo breathed against his throat. “Remember it.”_

_One of Kyungsoo’s hands slid down to lazily brush over the man’s inner thigh, around the area where he knew his own name was carved into the soft, pale skin, small and meticulous lines. A claim. One that matched Chanyeol’s claim, stretched across his shoulder blade._

_He straightened and pecked the other’s lips, before sliding down from his lap. But before he could walk away, a hand caught his wrist and brought him back against the other’s warm chest, lips pressed to his in a chaste, but heartfelt kiss._

_Kyungsoo didn’t mind. He only smiled slowly._

_“Remember, Chanyeol,” he murmured, pulling at the hold on his wrist, but knowing Chanyeol wouldn’t let go until he was done. “Make it visible. Show them who owns me.”_

_The grab on his wrist tightened painfully, nails digging into his skin, and Kyungsoo hissed, but the smile didn’t drop from his face; it widened._

_“Good,” he praised, kissing Chanyeol once more before the grip easened up, and then fell away completely._

_Kyungsoo looked towards their new victim, licking his lips in anticipation. “Enjoy the show, Chan,” he breathed, before he set off towards the laughing man with the bright smile and the black eyeliner._

_t_

_And so they lure another one in, trapping them in their web of deceit and lies._

_Always weaving, round and round._

 

**Author's Note:**

> And suddenly, le wild SatanSoo appears.
> 
> … Sorry?
> 
> Fun fact: I was originally planning on Krisho/SuLay, but then I realised I could break KaiSoo (I love them, no worries), and then the answer was pretty clear. Oops.
> 
> Before continuing, there is one thing I want to say: This was my first attempt at smut, so please, be gentle, and I’m sorry if it were horrible :’D
> 
> Right. Aside from that, thank you for reading! I really, really hope you liked it (or hated it, but still liked it, you know?) I’ve slaved over this the past months, and have spent much time just glaring at it and hating it, so it, by now, means much to me, haha.
> 
> Also, huuuuuge thanks to Meg! Without her, this fic wouldn’t be half as good <3 (Meg’s comment: Lies! It is brilliant! Nat: <3)
> 
> If you have questions, ask (Meg: Nicely Nat: XDDD) away and I’ll answer. Also, if you catch any typos neither Meg nor I have caught, or have other forms of constructive critique, please let me know so I can edit and improve my writing! English is not my first language. Also, I really, really love comments <3
> 
> Furthermore, this is a very long oneshot. I decided to upload it in one part, but if you think it’d be better as a twoshot or threeshot or something else, kindly let me know, and I’ll edit it!
> 
> … Yesh. Until whenever, lovely readers! Thanks for reading! <3 (I fail at short ANs. Sorry OTL)
> 
> (Now, let’s all love EXO’s new songs! (I seriously adore Promise, damn. My new favourite song, beating even Black Pearl.))


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